


Pillars of Eternity: Anthem Infinitum

by ampleappleamble



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: My First Work in This Fandom, Novelization
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:27:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26076427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ampleappleamble/pseuds/ampleappleamble
Summary: Chanters and historians tend to repeat history, literally and figuratively, for better or for worse. A scholar exiled from her homeland finds herself confronting not only her own past, but the history of her very soul.(Pillars 1 novelization with a female orlan chanter scholar Watcher from Ixamitl Plains. Mature language and situations.)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 15





	1. Pilgrimage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Axa Mala suffers a rude awakening.

\---

_I made a promise._

The little woman sat at the back of the crowded little wagon. Her head lolled on her shoulders and her eyes were closed, but she wasn't asleep-- although she was as close to it as her body and mind would allow.

_He made a promise. To me._

Still, sleep refused to take her entirely, and so her thoughts drifted through the haze in her mind like dead leaves floating on a pond, tormenting her. Reminding her of everything she was hoping sleep would allow her to forget for a while.

_He lied to me._

The wagon jostled her to and fro, her small frame tossed against the other passengers. Her burgundy hair hung in loose curls over her face, her long, tapered ears limp against her cheeks.

_He... betrayed me._

The stale air in the covered wagon, the stuffy miasma of the breath and body odor of other kith, combined with the wagon's insistent swaying-- it reached her even through her dozing, making her head swim. Soon she began to squirm and groan, started feeling flushed and weak.

_He betrayed... us. Both--_

_... **All** of us._

Even as another passenger gently gripped her shoulder, asking if she was feeling alright, she found herself unable to fully wake. All of a sudden her whole world was the pounding of her heart, the fever on her brow, the thoughts racing through her foggy, half-sleeping mind, whirling madly, a half-dream almost spoken aloud:

_traitor-- promise-- liar-- devotion--_

She writhed, trembling, teeth chattering, as a nearby folk man trundled to the front of the wagon, hollering for the caravan master to stop. A dwarf seated by her reached across the gap between them and squeezed her hand gently.

"Hey, there. Come on now, you'll be alright. We'll tell the caravan master to stop for you, and we'll get you taken care of. We little kith have to watch each other's backs, after all." She winked, and the orlan only moaned weakly in response, dazed and frightened.

_What do I do now? Without them? ...Him. Am I-- I'm--_

And finally, she shuddered violently, waking. Her violet eyes snapped open to stare blearily at her shaking hands in her lap.

_I... I feel..._

_...Oh. Gods._

_...I never should have done this. Any of this._

_.........Where are we?_

The man who'd alerted the driver had returned, looking paler than before. The caravan had stopped, but not because of her.

\---

"There." The hired guard gestured toward a large bush bristling with small, pink berries. "Berries Odema told y' 'bout. Let's get y' fixed up, c'mon."

Axa shuffled miserably behind the blond woman, shivering and panting as her cheeks flushed with fever again. _It comes and goes_ , she thought, gritting her pointed teeth, wiping her brow. _What in Hel **is** this malady? _

The exertion from fighting off the local fauna wasn't making her condition any easier to bear, and although the caravan master had told her her illness was common and not very severe, it was bad enough to make taking down a single juvenile wolf a struggle. _Been in the books too much perhaps,_ she thought grimly as she caught up to the folk woman. _Another favor academia's done me: Now I'm out of shape **and** out of friends. _

As she knelt before the bush, she couldn't help but heave a long, shaky sigh. _Well. Maybe I ought to be a bit easier on myself. I've had a... difficult month. And now, this shit on top of it all. Maybe I should find a temple, make a sacrifice to Rymrgand..._ She tried to laugh, but it came out a weak cough instead.

Calisca side-eyed the little woman as they harvested the berries together, a slight smirk playing on her chapped lips. Maybe it was the orlan's small stature making her resemble a folk child, or maybe it was her stubborn, sulky silence, but she couldn't help but be reminded of her youngest brother. He was a studious, taciturn lad who had yearned to be taken seriously, but always pouted and whined at any little splinter or bruise. Not to say she thought the orlan was faking it, just that she seemed to be acting worse off than she looked. She knew orlans were intense by nature, so maybe she was just being dramatic. After all, she'd flirted with that Aedyre merchant back at camp easily enough.

But when she really thought about it, the fuzzy little redhead had been quiet and withdrawn the whole trip down, ever since they'd rolled out of Ixamitl. None of the other travelers had had much to say about her when asked, other than that she was apparently a former lore college student who seemed content to keep to herself. And Calisca had suffered the Rumbling Rot herself enough times to know that it didn't render a kith _this_ out of sorts. So either she was exaggerating, Odema was talking complete horseshit, or she had something weighing her down besides the fever and chills.

Each answer was as likely as the other, and Calisca's response was the same either way: try and get her talking, lighten her up. Didn't need her bringing the mood down further for the other caravanners, making a bad situation worse. Better to try and make friendly, put her at ease. It'd certainly make this shitshow of a night pass easier.

"People're talkin' about you at camp, like kith will. Word is you're a loremaster from the Plains." Calisca paused her berry picking to glance around, scanning for any movement from the underbrush. "Or somethin' like that anyway. What was it you used to study?"

Axa snorted and winced simultaneously. She could understand and appreciate an attempt at small talk, but the other woman had chosen the worst possible avenue of inquiry. Maybe if she had asked about her love life, that would be worse...

"Loremaster? Hardly. Scholar. ...Of history." The orlan's response was short and clipped, but her voice was deep and rich, clearly accustomed to song and public speaking. Her Ixamitl accent was only partially obfuscated by her easy proficiency in Aedyran. "Well. Linguistics, really. And naturalism. Studying cultures and languages, you know. History is more of a catch-all term..." She gestured vaguely, waving one hand about, dropping half of her harvest in the process. Calisca snorted this time, and she couldn't deny the relief she felt when the little woman laughed along with her instead of getting offended.

"History and language, huh?" The fighter bent down to collect the fallen fruit, a wry grin on her ruddy face. "Come out here to study how we Dyrwoodans been butcherin' Aedyran with our accents and cussin'? ...Truth be told, I might like to read that paper." She rolled her head around on her shoulders, stretching her neck. "Well... maybe have someone read it to me."

"I'm... No, I'm not here on behalf of any college. I'm not here for anyone." She wasn't smiling anymore. Another awkward silence. Calisca was getting ready to just change the topic to something less incendiary when Axa looked away--

_just explain before you have to suffer the humiliation of being asked!!_

\-- and sighed. "I was _expelled._ I... made a poor choice, trusted someone I shouldn't have, and I was forced out of my community." If the fever hadn't reddened her face, this confession certainly had. The berries bled juice from between her fingers, smashed in her shaking fists. "I lost my academic standing, my career, my... everything. So now I'm here. Because it was this or killing myself, and with my luck that would probably just piss off Berath."

 _There. That's all. You've said the essentials, you've admitted it out loud, it counts as the truth, and you don't need to say it again if you don't want to._ Axa looked at the ground, angry at herself, at her shame, at the tears pricking the corners of her eyes. _It wasn't that bad, wasn't that bad, wasn't..._

If Calisca was at all shocked by the former scholar's outburst, she hid it well. "Damn rough turn, that," she drawled, shaking her head slowly. "...Well, gods know we've all done shit we ain't proud of. Made moves we've regretted. Important thing's to learn from it. And considering you made a living at it once, you're probably pretty good at learnin'. Ain't that right, scholar?" She tried a heartening smile, and found it came more easily than she'd thought it would. "That's what the Dyrwood's all about. Second chances."

Self-pity and gratitude washed over Axa in equal measure. A complete stranger had to be the one to do it-- a _mercenary_ at that-- but at long last, someone had finally sympathized with her, taken her at her word, and given her a few words of encouragement. How had this taken so long?

"I... yes, I suppose you're right." She wiped her hands on the grass and groped for another berry-laden branch. "I have to admit, it does help to hear someone else actually _say_ it. Academia is infested with egoists who refuse to back down, who never learn from their mistakes. It's refreshing to be reassured by a fellow kith of the universal truth that... we are all _fuck-ups_ from time to time." She grinned. "And that the point of life is to learn. A cool hand on a hot brow." Axa looked up at the other woman. "Thank you, Calisca."

And with that, Calisca finally felt herself relax. Despite the blocked road, the sick passenger, the dangerous ruins, the threatening weather-- despite it all, she had actually managed to get through to this girl and turn a potential shitshow into a manageable little fiasco. Not bad at all. _And Odema thinks he pays me more than my work's worth!_ She chuckled to herself as she turned back to the task at hand.

"So. Have a destination in mind?" She plucked a few more of the riper-looking berries. Her hands moved at a leisurely pace; they were nearly finished already.

"Gilded Vale. Local lord is practically giving away land." Axa picked slowly, too, still groggy and fatigued from fever and chills.

Calisca nodded. "I heard about that. Got a sister in Gilded Vale myself." The mercenary smiled at the thought of Aufra, but her stomach twisted with anxiety when she remembered that letter. She pushed it out of her mind.

"Any idea what you'll be occupying yourself with? Bein' honest, don't know what kinda life a professional book reader might carve out for herself in a little farming community like the Vale." The blonde woman smiled at her to reassure her that she was joking, but Axa was staring into the middle distance and didn't notice.

The orlan woman sighed, long and slow and heavy. "I have... no idea what I'm going to do next," she murmured.

This was not an exaggeration.

\---

"Don't trust them! They mean to kill us all!"

It had all happened in a flash. The Glanfathans had appeared out of nowhere, slaughtered the poor travelers, gutted Odema, and Heodan had thought himself Berath's for certain. But he'd hoped against hope that maybe, maybe someone would discover the grisly scene and come charging in to save the day. ...Preferably _before_ he got his throat slit.

He had nearly cried out with relief when he saw Calisca step into the light before him, sword raised high. Almost hadn't noticed the woman at her side, before recognizing her as the sick passenger he'd sold a dagger to not 40 minutes prior. But when the stinking savage holding him hostage responded to the women's presence by pressing his blade to Heodan's throat, he'd been shocked to see that timid, sullen little orlan suddenly leap to his defense.

She had recognized them as Glanfathans, and she had been clever enough to try to mollify them by explicitly stating that they did not disturb the ruins. But her calls for amnesty had fallen on deaf ears, and Heodan had warned her as a last resort. Now the orlan woman stood stock still, her eyes darting around frantically as she puzzled over how best to proceed.

_superstition-- passionate-- galawain-- belligerent--_

Focus, please. She drew a deep, calming breath.

_...They won't be pacified by words alone, it seems. So... time to push our luck._

For a few terrifying moments, Heodan thought she might actually surrender her weapon trying to appease the madman. But instead she stepped forward, lowering her sabre but not relinquishing it. "Tell me, man of Eir Glanfath. Do you truly think your hunter god smiles upon your deeds?" She stared steadily into his eyes, her face an impassive mask. "Protecting these crumbling stones, long after their builders have been reclaimed by the Wheel... seems to run counter to Galawain's tenet of the young and strong overthrowing and replacing the old. Wouldn't you say?" Axa glanced at Heodan, a clear _"I'm trying, please hang in there"_ in her wide, panicky eyes.

The axe at Heodan's throat shifted slightly, the man holding it leaning forward in his fervor to defend his beliefs. Heodan winced against the assault of the man's hot, stinking breath on his cheek, the roar of his raspy voice.

"You know **nothing** of our ways, _estramor_! My people have followed the Lord of Beasts for centuries, known of his sacred decrees for longer than your miserable bloodline has stood! Galawain charged my people with the sacred task of safeguarding--"

_Oh, horseshit! Don't let him--_

"You call this _holy work_?" Axa cried, gesturing at the bodies surrounding them. "Brutalizing innocent travelers to 'defend' an empty temple? If you believe that, you'd believe anything-- anything so long as it allows you to kill who you please, no matter how helpless." Her eyes bore into the man, disgust and indignance plain on her face. "I see what you really are, _coward."_

It only lasted a second, but a second was all he needed. The Glanfathan faltered under the woman's verbal assault, and Heodan took full advantage, dropping out of his grip and falling into an evasive roll. He heard the warrior scream with fury, heard Calisca roar a ragged battle cry, heard the orlan woman start chanting...

And after the deed was done, before they could even catch their breath, the bîaŵac was upon them.

\---

_I know him._

She stood, but only just barely.

_How do I know him?_

Calisca and Heodan... did not stand. Would not stand again. That man, the masked man--

_...He did this._

_Oh gods. Oh fuck, I'm in trouble._

She stumbled over the ancient, uneven cobblestones, the fever and chills a distant memory. She could swear she heard voices, and telling them apart from her own jumbled, raving thoughts was becoming more and more difficult.

_He did this, he killed them, just like he killed--_

_...like he_

The ghostly image of a woman burning alive on a wooden stake sprung up in front of her, and the little woman fell to her knees, covering her face, _screaming--_

_i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't do this i can't **take this please--**_

\-- but when she lowered her shaking hands again, she saw only the grass, the stones, the ruins. The pillar and the machine.

Axa made a sound she didn't have a name for, something between a sob and a scream and a bark of crazed laughter. She had honestly believed, when she had woken up this morning, that her life could not possibly get any worse.

_...I have to get out of here._

The orlan rose to her feet, slowly, stumbling toward the dirt road leading into the open meadows beyond. The path away from this place.

But she couldn't help looking over her shoulder one last time. At the base of the pillar, where that man

_\--are you prepared, initiate--_

had stood.

 _What has he done...?_ Axa clutched at her head, trembling all over. Her thoughts, it seemed, were still not entirely her own.

_What has he done this time...?_

She mumbled a prayer to Wael, too exhausted to think anymore, as she stumbled away from the ruins.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to take this opportunity to thank the Pillars of Eternity Tumblr community. Without all of you out there creating and liking and reblogging each others' creations-- and mine!-- I never would have gotten the wherewithal to try this. I love you all very much <3
> 
> I'm interested in receiving feedback, so please feel free to comment/review/etc. Thank you for reading!
> 
> In case it's unclear: "Axa Mala" is pronounced roughly as, "AH-shuh MAH-luh."


	2. A Warm Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Axa meets the neighbors.

\---

Axa stood staring at the huge, gnarled tree. The bodies hanging from its deformed branches twisted lazily in the wind.

_I'm... cursed._

She stood and stared, and tried to think of how she had gotten here. Surely there was some explanation. Surely it wasn't just because her luck was truly this bad. Unless... Shit, maybe she really _did_ need to make a sacrifice to Rymrgand.

_Maybe... maybe the town is cursed?_

There had been a few kith in her travels so far who had seemed kind, pleasant, sound of mind. The man by the river outside of town, taking down his tent. He had been nice. Calisca, Heodan, Odema. But as soon as she'd stepped into Gilded Vale-- no, as soon as she'd seen what she thought might be _corpses hanging from an enormous dead tree_ as she approached the town's walls, she had felt all her hopes for a little more of that good Dyrwoodan hospitality fly straight off to Hel. The few townspeople she'd spotted on the way in either glared at her like she was a filthy dog that someone had let into their foyer, or didn't acknowledge her at all. And then the local lord's representative had introduced himself...

_"By the gods, are you **mad??** No wonder this town is in need of new settlers!" Axa spat, flinging her hand in front of her to gesture at the grisly display. "Half of the townsfolk are hanging from this... this monument to brutality, and the other half are slinking around like they're afraid--"_

_Urgeat cut her off. "Lord Raedric VII has made a sacred vow to his people, to Berath, and to himself: to safeguard his lands and his citizens against Waidwen's Legacy. **This--** " he gestured to the tree-- "is his justice made manifest. If his methods are not to your liking, you are free to seek lodging elsewhere." He smiled a tight, smug smile. Stupid little orlan bitch. She wouldn't last very long here, not with a mouth like that on her._

_"Now then, if I may..." He paused, daring her to interject again, but she stayed mercifully silent. "Our esteemed Lord has established some guidelines to prevent certain... undesirable elements from sullying the Vale with their maladies and perversions. So, we must make some inquiries before we can allow you to claim your new homestead." The tall, thin man adjusted his comically small spectacles. "First and foremost-- have you ever conceived a Hollowborn child?"_

She still barely knew what he'd meant by that. "Hollowborn." It wasn't a term she had heard before coming here, but she was starting to gather that it meant a kith child born without a soul. Axa had heard of soul illnesses, of course, but never anything like this Hollowborn business. She remembered Calisca talking about her pregnant sister, being worried for her, mentioning that people out here had been having trouble giving birth-- but Axa hadn't expected to see people being hanged for it, like it was a crime to produce what was essentially a stillborn.

Of course, she hadn't said that to Urgeat. Instead she'd stood there, gaping at the sheer audacity of this rude, smug asshole, until her outrage burst through her verbal filter, shredding all pretense and politesse.

_"What the **fuck** are you **talking** about?" Axa blurted, exasperated. She had had just about enough on this trip. She'd been banished from her home, crammed into a tiny wagon, beset upon by a bizarre illness, ambushed by murderous indigenes, almost killed by a bîaŵac, forced to watch as her traveling companions had had their souls rent from their flesh, afflicted by yet another bizarre illness, and she had had to hike for hours down dangerous roads full of bandits and hostile wildlife to get here. There was no fucking way she was going to allow some stuffed shirt to humiliate her with overly personal questions just so she could get some godsdamn rest and (hopefully) medical aid. "What business is it of yours if I've-- do I **look** like I'm relocating with a **child** , you damned fool??"_

_Urgeat sneered. "Ah. I often forget you outsiders do not suffer this curse." He somehow managed to sound even more condescending as he explained, "A Hollowborn child-- an infant born lacking a soul-- is generally not brought along when one moves house. ... Unless one should find themselves in dire need of a doorstop, or a paperweight."_

_He couldn't help but relish the obvious discomfort he'd caused the little woman. Her haunted eyes, her disgusted scowl, her defensive posture-- all signs that he was on the right track to getting her properly started here in Gilded Vale. Now, if she could learn to keep her little sewer of a mouth shut, maybe he could make a proper orlan of her. Why, if she were lucky, maybe she could be the new cook at the Hound! If she didn't get too much fur in the soup..._

_He opened his mouth to continue--_

And then the bell had tolled, a harsh, booming tone that shook the earth beneath Axa's feet. She had almost screamed, but had managed to stop herself. Then it had tolled again, and she started hearing the other townspeople gasp and whisper amongst themselves.

 _Three_ tolls of the bell apparently indicated a death in the Raedric family, which itself indicated that Axa would not be seeing her new parcel of land tonight. Or anytime soon at all, in fact. Her cheeks flushed with anger as she remembered the smirk the magistrate wore as he told her.

_"What... what does that mean? This doesn't change the offer, does it?" Axa's large violet eyes darted around, watching villagers react to the news. Ghostly apparitions still flitted in and out of her peripheral vision, making her stomach churn and twist with anxiety._

_Urgeat sighed heavily. He did not have time for this pest and her idiotic questions, not now. "What it means," he hissed, "is that we in Gilded Vale have more important things to worry about than your lodging." The magistrate looked off into the distance, pensive and somber. "...Waidwen's Legacy has struck at the very heart of our community. We must redouble our efforts to appease Berath, lest we invite this curse to blight our Vale forevermore."_

_Axa stared in silence, reeling from the man's words. She felt her stomach drop, her legs get weak. This wasn't happening. She spoke slowly, deliberately, working as hard as her frazzled mind would allow to understand: "You mean to tell me that I came all this way... suffering misfortunes and malady the entire time... based on your lord's promise of a homestead... and he is now revoking that offer because his wife had a stillborn?"_

_"The offer has not been revoked as of yet," the magistrate declared, "however circumstances **have** changed. I will have a more... definitive answer for you once I have conferred with His Lordship. Until then, I suggest you seek shelter for the near future. The inn--" he extended a long, bony finger toward a tall, black-shingled building down the road-- "should suffice for now." He turned away from her. "...Or you could sleep in a stable, for all I care."_

_And with that, the executor of Lord Raedric's benevolent will turned to follow his armed guards up the road toward Raedric's keep. "Wait. **Wait!** " The little woman clutched at her head, staggered after him. "You can't just... I'm-- I ran into a bîaŵac on the way here and I'm **ill--** " She had been stretched to the very limit of her capacity for misfortune. She was on the verge of dropping to her knees and sobbing aloud, but her defiant need to deny this horrible man the satisfaction just barely kept her in check. Still, she trembled and twitched, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "Can you at least... at least tell me if there's anyone here who can help me?"_

_The bespectacled man stopped in his tracks, turned to her. A strange, cruel smirk spread across his face as he gestured toward the tree. "A bîaŵac? If what you say is true, then perhaps what you need is an animancer. Unfortunately, the only animancer in town isn't feeling very talkative just now." His gaunt, thin hand indicated an older woman hanging in the tree, a plump little dwarf, grotesquely bloated in death. "That is the fate that awaits those 'soul experts' who lie to our Lord." He paused, lowering his hand to his side, clenching it into a fist. "Who bring such unholy misfortune upon our Vale."_

He had kept talking, sneering about adra pebbles and troll piss, vaguely threatening to have her killed, but Axa had been in another world. She'd finally reached the point where she was so angry, so exhausted, so terrified that if she allowed herself to feel it all, she would be annihilated in the maelstrom. So she had stood staring at the dead woman in the tree until the magistrate had had his fill of his own voice and, at long last, slunk away up the road with his toadies, back to his Lord's keep. And she had stood there a bit longer after he was gone, too, concentrating on slowing her breathing and gathering her thoughts.

_...The inn. The inn. We can have a meal, and a smoke, and a prolonged, cathartic crying episode, but we have to make it to the inn first. The rest... the rest we'll think about when we've got a full belly and a night of sleep behind us. Come on, girl, let's get a move on._

She closed her eyes and took one last, long, deep breath.

The air stank of death and shit.

She gathered her resolve, forcing the miasma from her nostrils with a sigh, and started down the road toward the Black Hound Inn.

A villager, a well-built meadow folk man, raised his pipe in salute as she passed by, his blond beard framing his wry grin.

"Welcome to our lovely town."

Somehow, she found herself smiling back at him.

\---

"Three tolls! Berath's eye, I knew them godsdamned _soul butchers_ wouldn't be able to do _shit!"_

The burly folk man slammed his open palm against the tavern’s worn and splintered table, and his cohorts roared their agreement. Someone must be held responsible for this tragedy.

"It's all about _coin_ to them! Vailian bastards, they'd sell their _mothers_ for a pand!" His elven comrade slung her skinny arm around his shoulder in solidarity.

Another folk man leaned over the both of them, pointing aggressively. "Fuckin' _all_ foreigners, is the problem. Thinkin' they can come in here and take what's ours, fool us, rob us, _kill our kin--_ " He ranted at length, and before long he had the other two mesmerized, his anger and conviction contagious. They nodded eagerly along as he raved, shouting their approval here and there.

The rest of the patrons ignored them entirely or watched with bemused interest as the drunk trio worked themselves into a xenophobic fury. It was a common enough sight around here, especially as of late. As long as the malevolence stayed at words, it could be tolerated, and they hadn’t gotten violent. Again. Yet. Still, the patrons of the Black Hound watched, ready for anything.

"We oughta run 'em all out, or else put 'em to the sword-- like we did the Eothasians! We don't need their meddling or their gods damn coin or their pity! Dyrwood for _Dyrwoodans!!"_ He raised his hands in a show of triumph, his friends clapping and cheering him on.

_"Fair 'n' fine figurin' there, if ye've shite fer brains."_

All eyes in the tavern sought out the body behind the voice. And they found it pretty much instantly: the slender, quiet elf at the corner table. The foreigner, with the accent.

The evening had only just begun.

\---


	3. At Your Service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Axa goes against every instinct she has and makes a friend.

\---

_One foot in front of the other, Axa. One step at a time._

The orlan woman walked slowly, deliberately, carefully making her way down the dirt and gravel path to the only inn in Gilded Vale. She kept her head down, eyes fixed on her boots and the road beneath them. If she saw one more person glare at her with open disdain, she feared she'd lose what remained of her tattered resolve and simply crumple to the ground, defeated.

_And if you see one more phantasmal torture victim..._

Yes. There was that to consider too. Although she hadn't seen any... apparitions manifest directly in front of her since she'd left the ruins, she still heard whispers just beyond the edge of her hearing, still saw flutters and flashes of movement in the corners of her eyes.

_All the better to keep your eyes on your feet, then. Not much farther._

The inn was so close she could smell it. This spoke to the quality of the facility, but Axa was in no position to be choosy. She knew that she'd most likely be curling up on a hard wooden floor that night, but even so, the Black Hound Inn was the very, _very_ last sanctuary she had. It was the _only_ place she could turn to to keep from spending her first night in her new homeland sleeping on the street.

So of course there had to be yet another obstacle between her and her goal.

\---

She heard them before she saw them: just outside the inn's doors, a group of four kith arguing loudly. She wanted to pretend the raised voices were simply another trick of her soulsick mind, but she knew they were too real, too distinct to be hallucinations. ...And none of the whispers she'd heard so far had called anyone a cocksucker like that.

_Just relax. You don't need to get involved._

She reluctantly lifted her head and got visual confirmation: three clearly drunk people, two folk men and an elf woman, posturing and poking their fingers in the chest of one slightly smaller figure that was mostly obscured from Axa's view. She could see the other kith's raised hands and rounded shoulders, though.

 _Three against one? Mob justice seems to be the norm around here._ She furrowed her brow.

_...Something's not right._

"I _do_ apologize, _sincerely,_ for the misunderstanding." Axa's ears perked up. The target of the angry drunks was an Aedyran apparently, and a man. As she got closer, she subconsciously slowed her pace, trying to peer around the backs of the belligerent villagers to get a better look at the other foreigner without alerting anyone of her presence.

_Yet._

Although his hood partially hid the characteristic long, pointed ears, she could tell well enough that he was an elf, and a somewhat younger one. His body language suggested that he knew he was in significant danger of bodily harm from these people, but his face wore a diplomatic smile. Unfortunately, his genteel mannerisms only seemed to be pissing off his aggressors further rather than placating them, and their flushed faces and clenched fists suggested that their patience for his attempts at a truce had been worn clean through.

He could see it too, but he was clearly out of options. He closed his eyes, pressed his hands together in front of his chest, bowed his head slightly in a show of submission. "W-why don't we... put this unfortunate matter to rest with a drink, yes? Ah... My treat, of course!"

"There he goes again, thinkin' he can _buy us off._ " The elf woman spat at his feet, and her folk companions clapped her on the back, thrusted their chests out at the other man. " _There's_ what we think of your fancy Aedyre coin, copperfucker!" The men with her barked their agreement, and the elven man shrunk back, obviously struggling to keep from panicking.

Axa gritted her teeth. _Oh, fuck this. I've seen enough unfair fights to know where this is going, and I've had my fill of seeing dead people today. Besides, they're in my way. I'm getting involved._

"Excuse me."

Suddenly four pairs of eyes were fixed on the little redhead, three of them red and bleary with drink. Axa gazed evenly into each of them in turn, before gesturing to the building behind them. "This is the inn, right? I've only just arrived here--" here she looked pointedly at the Aedyran man for a second "--and I'm in need of shelter for the night."

The hayseed triumvirate took her in, scowling. "Just what we need," one of the men grunted, "another wiseass foreigner coming in here and mocking us to our face. You ought to mind your own business, girl, if you wanna stay in _our_ town."

"If you wanna stay _alive_ , you mean," the other man added, glaring at the hooded elf. "Unlike certain other guests around here who've worn out their welcome." Now all eyes were on the Aedyran again, who appeared to have been blindsided by Axa's interruption and was now staring in mute shock at his would-be assailant. "Go on," the folk man growled, advancing slightly toward the hooded elf. "Say it again. I _want_ you to." The man grinned a predatory grin, feeling the tides of the argument shift in his favor again. By Magran, he'd _stick_ this snobby little bastard for what he'd said.

 _Oh shit. Shit!_ Axa felt the shift too, knew she had to move, _now,_ get between the two of them before it got violent--

"I _dare_ you. I'm _itching_ for an excuse--" he snarled, and before Axa could intervene, she saw the elf man... _change_.

His posture straightened, his lip curled, he angled his face down but his eyes up to glare defiantly at his adversary.

_"Fye, **yer** itchin' fer th' kindlin' touch o' yer **sister** , ye coxfither!"_

It was as though he'd been temporarily possessed, and the spirit was gone as quickly as it had come over him. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, his triumphant smirk melted into a horrified rictus, as though he had suddenly realized exactly what he'd said.

Axa was just as shocked as the three locals, and the four of them stared at him, stupefied into silence.

_What the-- was that Hylspeak??_

It didn't last long. The drunks recovered quickly and _screamed_ , incensed, wordless cries of rage that the Aedyran man could only cower in response to. "You son of a bitch, I'll _cut that barrel-licking tongue right out of your **cocksucking face--**_ "

Axa had been too slow before, but she couldn't afford to make the same mistake twice. As the elf tried to insist they'd merely _misheard_ him (a ridiculous suggestion-- _was_ he trying to bait them...?) she finally found her voice again.

 **"Stop."** She kept her voice even and steady, but put a little extra force behind it as well, just to be certain she was heard. _Chanter training coming in handy there,_ she thought as the drunks turned to her again, compelled just so by her intensity and timbre. Axa took a deep breath.

"Listen. I know you're angry. But anyone talking as big a talk as he is when they're this badly outnumbered is either out of their mind, or they know something you don't." Her gaze flitted between the three puffy red faces, looking for comprehension... and mercifully, finding it. She pressed on, encouraged: "Either way, it's probably wisest to just walk away. Look, he's even carrying a grimoire-- he's probably a _wizard_. Wael knows what he's capable of! Right?"

She directed her gaze at the Aedyre man, now, and found him looking back at her. Their eyes met for only a second-- and then he _changed_ again, quickly casting a dangerous, aggressive look at the Dyrwoodans. _"We've nye quarrel,"_ he growled, before blinking rapidly and going pale again.

"He's not worth it," Axa added quickly, glaring at him out of the corner of her eye. _Wael's bowels, is he **trying** to fuck this up?_ He glared back at her in response, as if to challenge her assessment of him.

"Fine," the taller of the two men hissed at last, his cohorts gawking at him in surprise. "But _don't_ think this is over, outsider. You've got a lot to learn about Dyrwoodan hospitality. Watch your back around here."

He meant it to be threatening, and the elven man seemed thoroughly cowed. But now that she really looked at him, Axa couldn't help but see the blustering, drunken buffoon as anything but pitiable.

\---

The three of them staggered away at last, and once she was sure they were alone, she turned to the hooded man. _The final obstacle between me and that floor I'll be sleeping on tonight,_ she thought, planting her hands on her hips and hanging her head as he drew near. _Hopefully he's easier to get rid of than those drunks were. Gods, that was bad..._

"Well. That was not _exactly_ how I'd hoped to meet the neighbors," the elf man sighed, his voice much calmer now that the danger had passed. He fidgeted with his hood, and Axa caught a glimpse of long, dark hair resting against the man's cheek. "I must extend my gratitude to you for your assistance with that... ah... _awkward_ situation." He smiled politely down at her, and Axa shook her head.

"No need for thanks. Couldn't leave another kith outnumbered like that. Wasn't right." She spoke softly, but then shot him a look like a bolt of lightning between his eyes. "Could have done without the _extremely blatant goading_ , though, friend."

The color drained from the man's face and his expression went slack for just a second, but he recovered quickly, laughing a nervous little laugh. "Ah... well, it's... that is, that... wasn't all exactly as it seemed, let me assure you." He paused, seeming to reconsider his words, and then he went ahead and just started over: "P-perhaps introductions are in order?" Here, he stood to his full height, crossed his arm over his chest, and bowed slightly at the waist, extending his other hand to the orlan. "Aloth Corfiser, at your service." His voice was smooth as silk, his movements measured and precise.

 _Oh gods,_ she thought, _this lad's for **real,** is he?_ Axa felt simultaneously charmed and condescended to, a strange, unexpected smile spreading across her warm face. _It doesn't help that he's pretty much exactly my type... for all the good "my type" has ever done me._ She thrust her fuzzy hand into his, shaking it quickly. "Axa Mala, at yours. Now-- care to explain what you think you're doing, going around cursing out drunk locals?"

The hooded man, Aloth, blinked at the little woman as he withdrew his hand, stammered an apology for dragging her into it, but Axa merely crossed her arms in front of her chest, narrowing her eyes. _Thought that part of the conversation was over, did you? Sorry, friend. You're not **that** charming._ She waited for his answer.

"As I said before, all that was just an _extremely unfortunate_ misunderstanding. I... probably used a term that means something innocuous back home in the Cythwood-- in Aedyr, I mean-- but unbeknownst to me means something vulgar here. It's a distressingly common occurrence when one--"

"Are you trying to tell me it's an Aedyre custom to tell people to fuck their sister?" Axa cocked a burgundy eyebrow at him. "Because I'm pretty sure that's what you told that fellow."

The man's expression was neutral, but his face was a twitching, sweaty mess. "I... perhaps... _both_ of you misheard. That must be it. Surely."

 **"Fye, yer itchin' fer th' kindlin' touch o' yer sister, ye coxfither,"** Axa stated, clearly and boldly, without emotion. "Isn't that what you said?"

And for a split second, he did it again. He _changed_. It was over almost before Axa had time to notice, but the elf was definitely having some sort of... emotional turmoil in the privacy of his mind, and his body reflected it. He twitched and spasmed, his shoulders locked. He bit his lip, hard, and the odd, impish grin he was wearing crumpled into a tightly forced smile.

"...I should speak more _clearly_ , next time," he stated placidly, a vein bulging on his temple. "My apologies."

_... Is he joking? Or mad? ...Or does he just think I'm remarkably stupid?_

"What exactly are you doing in this backwater village anyway, wizard? You don't exactly look like a settler." Axa let her gaze wander over him. His clothes and armor were of fine quality, but just starting to fray from constant use. His face was angular and delicate, his skin smooth and clear, but dark circles were just beginning to form beneath his eyes. Whoever he was, he was clearly from money, maybe even nobility of some sort, but he seemed to be suffering a rough patch as of late.

"Begging your pardon, but neither do you," Aloth shot back, looking her up and down as well. "Nevertheless, I imagine we're both here for that exact reason-- lured by cheap land offered by a desperate lord. In my case, my relocation was forced by opportunities for my chosen vocation-- I trained as an arcane knight-- being quite scarce in my homeland. So, I... sought a new beginning elsewhere." He smiled sympathetically. "A familiar story, I'm certain. You were told of the land offer being conditional on the good Lady Raedric's successful delivery, too, I suspect?"

Axa swallowed, remembering the smug, sneering magistrate. "Yes. Only _after_ arriving, of course. I came here with a caravan that... we ran into some trouble near some ruins north of here, and I had to walk here alone, and he tells me to sleep in a _stable..._ "

"Ruins? _Engwithan_ ruins?" Aloth peered at her with interest, curiosity shining in his eyes. "...I've heard rumors about them, but never been near one, of course. Not when the Dyrwoodans would arrest you for trespassing and the Glanfathans would skip the formalities and execute you on sight."

Axa said nothing. She thought about Odema with his guts around his ankles. Calisca and Heodan limp on the ground.

"Tell me," Aloth murmured, leaning down towards the smaller kith. "What exactly did you find out there?"

For a moment, she wondered if she could just... not tell him. Not talk about it. She certainly had little desire to dwell on the events of the day, and even less desire to discuss them with a stranger. And he seemed to be educated well enough in etiquette and manners to leave the topic alone if she asked him to.

"A **_bîaŵac_**." She stared directly into his eyes as she said it, and he reacted as though she'd thrown a cold drink in his face.

_Never could resist that urge to be dramatic, could we?_

She instantly felt oddly ashamed of herself, and looked away from him, at the door to the inn. _Gods_ she was tired. "Can we... continue this conversation somewhere else?"

He held the door to the tavern open for her. She appreciated that.

\---


	4. Watcher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Axa unwinds at the end of a long day and gets to know her new traveling companion. Absolutely nothing bad happens, at all.

**\---**

Aloth sat alone at a small table in the corner of the tavern, silently counting out rigid increments of time, one after another after another. It had been 26 minutes, 45 seconds since she'd gone upstairs to his room. _Their_ room.

_This was a mistake._

_"Ye dinnae conne tha' yet, lad."_

He scowled into his goblet of wine. "Do _not_ tell me what I do and don't know, _rube,_ " he hissed.

He made sure to keep his head down, face lowered behind the pages of his grimoire. Lest this evening's incident repeat itself. Although, he doubted any more trouble now after his and Axa's entrance almost an hour ago.

_The foreigner gets frog-marched out of the tavern by three soused churls, only to return scarcely fifteen minutes later with another foreigner, who then proceeds to order two bottles of wine and nothing else..._

_"I stell whisht ye'd 'ave lemme batter 'em."_

Aloth rolled his eyes, lifting his goblet to his mouth. "Your preference has been duly noted," he deadpanned softly as he took a sip.

28 minutes and 50 seconds. They had agreed on 30.

_...Maybe. Maybe this was a mistake._

\---

She was alone.

She looked around slowly at her new surroundings. Someone else's room at a run-down country inn.

_Better than a dirty wooden floor in the common room at a run-down country inn._

Alone. She hadn't really been alone, truly _alone_ alone since--

_\--the Land, before he--_

Axa strolled a bit too quickly across the room, threw herself into a sitting position at the foot of the enormous, lumpy bed. Her hands trembled. She willed them to stop.

_Let's think about something else. Right now._

Thirty minutes. She had thirty minutes alone, and then her new traveling companion would rejoin her. They had managed to get a good rapport going once she had been able to sit and relax a bit in the tavern, and they'd shared their histories with one another, although they had kept it cordially laconic. She was a “disgraced scholar looking for a fresh start,” he was a “wizard from a noble family looking for a patron.” _Good enough for me._

He surprised her by proposing they travel together, citing that he found traveling with companions tended to be safer by far, especially in the Dyrwood, and she had already proven herself resourceful and courteous. Axa surprised herself by accepting his proposal.

_\--another lying, flattering elven man? you **foolish--**_

He had graciously suggested they share his rented room upstairs that night _("Meaning nothing untoward, of course," he'd added hastily, ears reddening)_ and had agreed to give her some time to herself before settling in for the night. The next morning, they would most likely start seriously planning to make for Defiance Bay, to look for lodging, paying work, and some sort of expert on souls. Camping supplies, food, water-- all would be necessary for the trip, so doing some odd jobs in the village before setting out might not be a bad idea. Earn some coin, get to know the area, the customs.

_Tell Calisca's sister about her death._

Axa paused.

She yanked her boots off of her aching feet and hurled them across the room as hard as she could in a flash of rage. The first tears hadn't fallen yet, but they were on their way.

_...Ah. This part. Finally._

She rose to her feet unsteadily, pulling at her clothes. She didn’t have _time_ for this crying _shit_ , she had to get undressed, cleaned up, ready for bed. She was shaking too hard to get her belt undone or her scarf untangled, but she struggled with them until they were at least loose enough to pull her tunic up and off.

_No. Go on. Let it happen. You need to feel this. You need to process it._

She clutched at her face, trembling harder, digging her fingernails into her flesh. Now the tears fell, hot and relentless, pouring down her burning cheeks.

_Hey. You held on as long as you were able. Maintained yourself, your dignity and your sanity. But this was bound to happen eventually. You can let go._

She collapsed to the floor in her stocking feet and linen shift, curling up on her knees and elbows. Agonized wails tore out of her throat; great, heaving sobs that choked her, left her breathless and red-faced.

_No one can hear you down there in the tavern, no one is judging you. Only the gods, and they don't count._

_You're all alone, Axa._

She felt it.

\---

32 minutes, 45 seconds.

Aloth clutched his empty goblet in his hand, knuckles white with tension. They had agreed on _30_ minutes.

_Maybe just... make it an even 35. Just in case._

_"By th' Wheel, lad, quit yer ninnyin' an' gerrup them stairs. Am shattered."_

The elf fidgeted in his seat, lowering his gaze to his lap. "I _will_ , I will. I just... I'm not quite ready yet." He had been stalling, and he knew it.

_"An' fer why I should haftae wait fer mah kip? 'Cos yer afeart o' th' wee lass?"_

He gritted his teeth, grateful that only his half of the conversation was being spoken aloud this time. "I am _not_ afraid of her," he whispered, slowly turning a page in his grimoire. 33 minutes, 50 seconds. "I just want to make absolutely certain that when I go up there, I'll have given her ample time to finish up any... _personal rituals_ she might have wanted to attend to in solitude. It's common courtesy. Not that _you'd_ know anything about that." He allowed himself a little smile at that, preparing to start to carefully and deliberately ease his grimoire closed. 34 minutes, 5 seconds. He could hold out for 35 even. _Easily_. He rose smoothly from the table, gliding out of his seat with practiced grace.

_A harsh, braying cackle of a laugh. "If'n I conne ye true, lad, yer jes' sayin' yer afeart ye'll burst in oan 'er wi' 'er baps oot if'n ye're up too soon, aye?"_

Aloth's fingers spasmed, and his heavy grimoire slipped from his hands, landing on the floor with a resounding **thump** that echoed in the half-empty tavern.

Every single remaining patron was looking at him.

He'd lost track of the time.

\---

_Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh no._

Axa kneeled on the bed, brushing the red hot embers from the thick woolen blankets with her bare hands. She had somehow spilled her pipe while lighting it, and now it seemed she had this _situation_ to deal with.

How had it come to this? She tried to remember. She'd had her cry. She'd laid on the floor for... a bit. She'd gotten up and washed her face and hands. She'd had her drink. Well, her _second_ drink. The first one had been downstairs, with that elf. The weird one. Aloth. That was his name. She liked him.

 _...No!_ She'd tied up her hair. _Then_ the second drink, the one she had up here. Then the third, the fifth, the fourth, then probably one or two more. She couldn't really remember. But anyway. Once she'd had her drinks, it was time for her _smoke_ , and--

_...Smoke. The pipe? The blanket-- **SMOKE!!!!**_

Axa discovered, to her dismay, that brushing the exact same spot on the blankets over and over while reminiscing about the events of the past half hour did not solve her problem in its entirety. The _other_ clumps of smoldering whiteleaf strewn across the bed were quickly leaving hideous scars all over the already badly abused blankets, and she rushed to slap them out, wishing that she had tied back _all_ of her hair and not just half of it for some reason.

Once she was sure she had gotten it all, she packed her pipe again-- _carefully_ this time-- and stood in the middle of the room, smoking and assessing the damage.

_Honestly... he might not even notice._

There was a knock at the door. She pretended not to hear it, smiling blithely at the rug.

"Axa? Forgive my tardiness, the time got away from me and-- and I, uh--"

Aloth swung the door open slowly and gently. He was met with a view of the little orlan woman standing in the middle of his room in her chemise, clearly drunk, clutching a lit pipe and regarding the brand new, still-smoking holes in the blanket on his bed.

She looked at the blanket, looked at him, eyes wide and bloodshot-- and exhaled a plume of smoke directly into Aloth's face.

He blinked rapidly.

_"...Fit like, lass?"_

\---

He arranged some blankets and cushions for himself on the floor, even though she practically begged him to _at least_ take the bed by way of a proper apology. He insisted, and she acquiesced, although not before expressly forbidding him from using the blanket she'd burned.

He lied when she asked if he minded her smoking, and she could tell he was lying, but she smoked until her pipe was burnt out anyway. It had been a hard night, and something told her sleep would not come easily.

"You always talk shit to people like that?" she asked, peering at his prone figure in the dark room. "In Hylspeak, I mean."

Aloth sighed, fidgeted in his bedding. "It's an old habit. From childhood."

"I see." Axa yawned and stretched, and he could hear her joints popping. "You might try to knock that on the head, friend. Or at least learn to insult these hayseeds in a language they _don't_ sort of understand."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Excellent suggestion. Any recommendations? I hear Rauataian is popular these days."

She grinned to herself in the dark. _Still can't get a straight answer out of you about all that, eh? Good thing I'm too addled to care right now._ "I could teach you Ixamitl. Little bit of Vailian."

"As long as you're a willing teacher, I'm a willing student."

"As long as we steer clear of Ordhjóma, I'm a willing teacher." Gods, she _was_ drunk, telling him that.

He wanted to ask, but knew better. "Fair enough."

The pair fell silent, and they fell asleep.

\---

Axa had expected a difficult night ahead of her. After all, she'd had a difficult day.

Exhaustion, wine, and whiteleaf put her body and waking mind to sleep easily enough, as they tended to do. But her subconscious mind was restless and turbulent, thoughts and memories and half-dreams all swirling together in a maelstrom of emotion, fear foremost among them.

_Whispers. Shadows._

It was all... familiar, somehow. The more she looked, the more she saw, and the more she saw, the more she _remembered._

_The pillars. The machine._

Had she... been here before?

No. That wasn't possible. She'd only ever been to Ixamitl and the Land before this. She had never been to the Dyrwood, never--

_\--from Creitum, my dear?--_

Axa thrashed violently in her bed. Sweat matted her fine, golden-bronze fur and her breath came in shuddering gasps. Her eyes snapped open--

\--and she was standing in front of that tree again, the one in the middle of town. The corpse tree.

The corpses were all wrong. She knew for a fact that the blond fellow who'd smiled at her as she'd started off toward the inn earlier that day hadn't been hanging from it last she looked. But he was hanging there now, still smiling his lopsided smile, still clutching his pipe.

 _"Welcome to our lovely town."_ He said it, but he didn't. She didn't hear his voice, and his face didn't move. But she heard him, in her mind, somehow.

_Is-- is this what ciphers-- oh, Wael's eyes, am I a cipher now or something?_

Axa had no time to dwell on the thought as the monstrous tree slowly began to move, twisting around and down toward her, brilliant violet flames flickering to life all over its gore-caked branches. It loomed above her, below her, all around her, blocking out all light except for the sickly purple glow of the souls hanging from it like overripe fruit.

And front and center, mere feet from Axa's own face, hung the dwarf woman. The animancer that horrible magistrate had so crassly introduced as "an example of what happens to those who lie to our Lord."

Axa could only stare in abject terror as the woman's corpse _noticed_ her.

It lifted its head, wrinkled and deflated like a gourd gone rotten, and stretched out its swollen, distended neck, pushing its maggot-ridden face to within inches of Axa's own. The head tilted to one side and blinked its empty eye sockets, and if she hadn't been on the very bleeding edge of a complete nervous breakdown, Axa might have noticed it smile gently.

The corpse's mouth opened wide before Axa's quivering eyes, blasting her with a wave of rotting stench that threatened to overwhelm the little woman entirely. She didn't know how much more of this she could bear, but at the same time, she couldn't look away. This was, she somehow instinctively knew, far too important a message to look away from.

The dwarf's corpse, like the blond man's, spoke directly to Axa's mind. But it spoke aloud at the same time, evidently to ensure that her message made it through any and all defenses the orlan woman could offer up, whether mental or physical. The corpse's rancid breath, its voice like a dull blade drawn across a gravestone, _her essence_ , all issued forth to assault and cradle and engulf Axa, all focused on the conveyance of one word:

**_"WATCHER."_ **

\---

Her eyes snapped open for real, this time.

A multitude of glowing purple figures stood over her, watching her as she lay defenseless in the dark.

She _screamed_ , a shrill, panicked howl of pure terror. She flailed desperately to escape, and ended up landing painfully on the floor face-first before scrabbling madly for the corner.

Aloth was up in an instant, groping for his grimoire, clambering to his feet in a panic. "What's-- _Axa?_ " The elf stumbled toward the cowering woman in the muddled pre-dawn light, reaching toward her with an open hand. "Axa? Are you alright? What's going on, did--"

She shrieked, throwing her arms up in front of her, shielding herself from him, from them, pushing herself against the wall with her trembling legs. _"DON'T!! **DON'T TOUCH ME!!"**_

Aloth did not. Instead, he froze-- then very slowly drew back, clutching his grimoire in front of his chest with both hands, trying to ignore the little woman as she shook and sobbed, face hidden in her hands.

 _I... shouldn't be seeing this. This isn’t right. I shouldn't be here. This is something private, and I'm intruding, and..._ He sighed, lowering his gaze to the floor, his ears drooping.

_...This **was** a mistake. I should... I should tell her I can't--_

"I want to go to that tree again."

Aloth snapped his attention back to Axa. She was still in the corner, sitting with her knees drawn to her chest, but her face peered out from beneath her curtain of crimson hair.

The apparitions were gone. "I want to see her. The dwarf in the tree. I have to see her."

Her amethyst eyes fixed themselves on his.

"Will you go with me?" Tears trembled on her eyelashes, but her voice was steady and strong.

"...Certainly," he replied softly.

\---


	5. Home and Hearth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is where the heart is. But what is "home" when its heart has been torn out?

\---

Edér wondered sometimes just how long it would take his hometown to finally die.

It reminded him of this dog he used to know when he was a kid, a sweet old hound dog called Tibbeth. She was the Rask's dog, but the whole town knew her, cared for her, fed her scraps. _Everyone_ loved that dog. By the time Edér was old enough to make lasting memories, she was reaching the end of her breeding years, and she only mellowed out further with each year that passed. He remembered her fondly from his childhood: Tibby making him late for dawn church service because she sat on his feet and wouldn't stop giving him Sad Eyes till he rubbed her tummy. Tibby wandering between two arguing friends and licking herself so ostentatiously that the argument was completely forgotten, ending in peals of laughter instead of fisticuffs.

But as he grew into an adolescent, Tibby grew elderly and decrepit. Her teeth and fur fell out. She limped. Her scat was watery and thin, and she tended to let it fall wherever she stood. Her belly distended, and she started getting mean and lashing out at those who tried to touch her, tried to help her.

He had known there was something growing inside of her that was hurting her, and what was worse, he had known that there was nothing anyone could do to help her. But to Edér, the worst thought of all was that _she was still in there_ under it all. Under all the pain and fear, sweet old Tibby was still in there wanting nothing but belly rubs and bits of ham from your plate. It was the _sickness_ made her snap at you, made her shit all over herself and struggle and scream while you tried to clean her up. Made her scared.

And it was this sickness that made his hometown like _this,_ now. And just like with Tibby, there was nothing he could do to help. _No way to excise the tumor._ His gaze wandered to the corpse-strewn monster of a tree nearby. _Nothing left to do but end it mercifully._

But he hadn't even had it in him to watch as Tibby was put down all those years ago. She had scratched and bitten the Gyrning's baby girl, and even though she was old and half toothless, she did enough damage to scar the child for life. He had run away back then, hiding the tears he had been getting too old to shed so freely anymore.

He sighed heavily, barely squinting against the feeble morning sunlight as he gazed out over the only home he had ever known.

"We're _both_ gettin' too old for this, ain't we?" Edér murmured.

Gilded Vale did not answer him.

The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end, and he turned slowly, carefully, to look at the tree again. He wasn't alone.

\---

The rest of the morning hadn't gone so badly.

She'd suffered a nightmare, she'd explained, and the strange hallucinations she'd told him about before had decided to manifest at the worst possible time: exactly when she had woken up. Hence the... _episode_ she'd had. Understandable, given the circumstances.

Unfortunately, she _did_ still want to go back to that tree. _"For closure,"_ she'd pleaded. _"It'll only take a moment, I promise you."_

They had dressed and packed their meager belongings in awkward silence, making it all the way downstairs to a table with their bowls of tepid porridge in hand before she had spoken up again.

 _"I'm sorry,"_ she'd stated, stirring the beige mess in her bowl with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner fastening her own noose. _"That was probably a... distinctly unpleasant experience for you. And this little detour probably will be, too. ...Please know that I truly appreciate your agreeing to accompany me nonetheless."_

She sounded as though she'd been planning this apology all morning, phrasing and rephrasing it in her head until she could strike a palatable balance between being honest with him and maintaining etiquette. Aloth had accepted without hesitation, of course. He had almost apologized to her himself in return, for perhaps having seen... more than she may have wanted a near-stranger to see, but he had thought better of it and remained silent instead. He hadn't wanted to embarrass her by bringing up her strange behavior again. She seemed to appreciate it.

And now he was standing a few paces behind her in the center of town as she stared at a dead woman in a tree.

_They had been standing there for fifteen minutes._

_"She's aff 'er heed, lad."_

"Nobody asked _you,_ " he sighed through gritted teeth.

\---

Axa regarded the new, dark world in which she found herself with fear and wonder. She had expected to see the dead woman, feel a little foolish, and then set off on the road. She had not been expecting _this_ at all.

Caldara de Berranzi's soul looked back at her, smiling a gentle, motherly smile.

 _"What is this?"_ She said it, but she didn't, just like in her dream. _"What's happened to me?"_

And the animancer responded in the same fashion. _"Poor thing! You must be so confused. The world is a baffling place, and the world beyond the Shroud even more so. But that world is yours now, too, to bear witness to."_

 _"I don't understand,"_ Axa whimpered. She really, really didn't. She didn't even know if this was really _happening._

The dwarven woman's soul smiled sadly at the little orlan, tsked in sympathy. _"I know you don't, dear. It's a lot to take in. Here, let me put it this way: Whatever happened to you, it freed your soul from your body, but not all the way. You were pulled into this world--"_ The dwarf gestured at the swirling morass of essence and void around them-- _"the In-Between of Life and Death. But! You must have only been here for an instant. Any longer, and you'd have ended up staying here, like me."_ Caldara gestured at herself, a bloated corpse dangling from a tree, with a sweet little chuckle.

 _"Your soul **remembers** , though. Remembers even after it returns to your body. Remembers how it sees in this world. Souls, their histories, their memories, their paths through the In-Between. All are yours to observe."_ The animancer nodded sagely.

 _"You are a **Watcher** , now,"_ she chirped, _"and a Watcher you will **stay**."_

Axa blinked. Watcher. The word from her dream.

_"I... I don't know what that means at all."_

Caladara sighed softly. _"Oh dear, oh dear. Make yourself comfortable, aimoranet. We have a lot more talking to do."_

\---

Aloth was starting to feel uneasy.

It had been just over 20 minutes now, and Axa still stood in the same spot, mesmerized by the dead animancer. They were drawing curious stares from townsfolk as they passed by, and he was getting nervous about what might happen-- what might come out of _his_ mouth-- should one of them try to start something.

He glanced around furtively, his open grimoire like a leaden weight in his hands, searching for anything to focus on besides the fact that he'd apparently elected to travel with this woman. A blond man with a pipe, leaning casually against a collapsed wall some distance away, cocked an eyebrow at him. The message was completely unspoken, but easily understood. _"Uh, your friend okay there?"_

He shot back a look that he hoped said both _"Mind your own business, please"_ and _"I have absolutely no idea why she's doing this,"_ somehow.

The man with the pipe shrugged, glanced up at the dead dwarf, then turned away. Aloth took the opportunity to study him a bit further, recognizing him vaguely from his time in town. He'd seen this man around, although not as much in recent weeks. He was vaguely aware of the Vale's day-to-day goings-on, and he seemed to recall seeing less of this particular face around the same time the local lord strung up his latest hapless victim in this gruesome abomination of a tree. Aloth tried to remember exactly who that victim had been...

...before noticing, with a start, that Axa had _moved_. She'd snapped out of whatever strange fugue state had taken hold of her and she stood before him now, looking for all the world like a child woken prematurely from a nap: confused, angry, morose.

He proceeded extremely cautiously. "Axa? Are you alright?" He leaned a bit closer for privacy's sake. "You seemed... a bit _lost_ , there." _For almost half an hour._

Either she didn't notice his attempt at discretion or she didn't care. "According to that dead woman," she blurted, "I'm a Watcher."

He felt his eyebrows leap up to his hairline. "Oh. _Well._ That... explains a lot, actually."

\---

Edér had watched the elf and the orlan the entire time they stood before the tree.

The elf he'd seen around town here and there recently, but he'd never interacted with the man. Of course, he'd heard others talking about him, saying all kinds of things: a haughty foreigner who thinks he can bring his high-falutin' Aedyran ass here and piss on our hospitality. But given the usual kind of horseshit his fellow townsfolk usually spewed these days, he didn't put much merit in what they had to say. At least he tended to mind his own business.

The orlan had just arrived the previous day, and when he saw Raedric's henchman approach her, he'd actually tensed up, preparing for a fight. With everything he'd heard about orlans, he was half expecting her to pull a knife, or maybe even whisper some sort of cipher magic. But instead she'd just shouted at Urgeat, mad as Hel and rightfully so. Edér had been unable to stop himself smiling at the look on the magistrate's pinched-up little asshole of a face.

Then the bell had tolled, and suddenly everyone in town had bigger issues to deal with. She'd looked positively miserable as she'd trudged past him on the way to the Black Hound Inn.

 _Look at that,_ he'd thought, watching her plod slowly forward. _Practically one of us already._

She'd met his eye for a moment, and he'd raised his pipe to her in a commiserative gesture. _"Welcome to our lovely town,"_ he'd quipped. And she had _smiled_ at him in response, even after all that abuse she'd just had to take from Urgeat.

Maybe that was why he'd decided to say something when she passed him again. She didn't look to be in any higher spirits than she had when he'd said something before, but she had smiled at him back then, so what was the worst that could happen this time?

"Seventeen-and-a-half," he called out to her, and grinned. _She's a little kith, maybe she'll like this one._

She and the elf turned to him, both of them wearing facial expressions similar to ones they might have had he catcalled them in an especially vulgar manner.

 _...Off to a great start,_ Edér thought. Nothing to do but press on.

"Eighteen dependin' on if you count the dwarf woman as a full person or not. ...I think you oughtta."

She approached him then, slowly, scrutinizing him with her eerie slitted pupils, while the elven man followed behind her. "You're saying there are eighteen people hanging in that tree?"

"Last I counted. You mean to tell me you were standin' there that whole time and you wasn't even counting 'em?"

Her cheeks brightened, and she turned to the elf. "Aloth? How long was I-- _were we_ standing there like that?"

The elf, Aloth apparently, winced apologetically at the little woman. "Oh, only about... about twenty minutes. Ish."

The orlan huffed out something between a laugh and a cough. "Only twenty minutes!" She shook her head, grinning, hands on her hips. "Excellent. I was worried I looked like a _weird asshole_ for a minute there."

Edér laughed aloud at last, and held out his hand in greeting. "Edér Teylecg. Although y' may as well just call me Nineteen."

"Axa Mala." He felt soft, fine fur in his hand when she shook it, and with it an _extremely_ confusing mix of emotions. The elf behind her introduced himself as well, as Aloth Corfiser, before she continued. "Nineteen, huh. You mean to say you think you're next?"

Edér smiled sadly, looking up at his friends and neighbors in the tree. "May as well be. Eighteen's my former captain in the war. Was my headman on the farm till Raedric put 'im up there for darin' to stand up for us. For me." He squinted back down at the little woman, clenching his pipe between his teeth. "Bein' honest though, way you were carryin' on with the magistrate the other day, I can't see you makin' it much further than, oh, 22, 23, tops. You seem like the sort of lady likes t' get involved."

She really did, too. For the first time since they'd started talking, her gaze met his, and the intensity of her bright violet eyes almost made him want to look away. Not _quite_. But almost.

She had a strange, guarded look on her face as she peered up at him. "Do you know what a Watcher is?"

Edér choked on his pipe smoke. This little gal was _full_ of surprises.

\---

"Caed Nua, huh? ...Haven't thought about that old place in a long time. Man such as Maerwald, there might be things I wanna ask him. Don't know why I never thought of that."

 _Obscured One, you have truly outdone yourself this time,_ Axa mused, a slow smile spreading across her face. _This_ was what she'd been missing after her expulsion: A mission, a purpose, a destination in life.

 _I was ready to die, and you gave me this gift: an absolutely insane convoluted nightmare scenario, compelling me to try to make sense of it... and in doing so, requiring me to stay alive. I am truly grateful._ She closed one eye, sending her prayer to Wael.

It was remarkable how much better she felt just knowing what was wrong with her, having a name for it. _Watcher._ The knowledge presented new challenges, certainly, but at least now she knew what she was up against. And she even had a tangible, short-term goal in mind:

_Get to Caed Nua. Find the Watcher, Maerwald._

The blond folk, Edér, scratched his bristly beard while he thought about her offer. But she could tell he'd already made up his mind. This couldn't go any other way. She'd seen him in her dream, alongside Caldara. A clear sign! _This was meant to be!_

...Okay, maybe she was taking it a bit too far there.

"I dunno about settin' out with a couple of strangers. Strange strangers at that." He glanced at Aloth and grinned apologetically. "No offense, cousin."

"I'll vouch for him," Axa smiled, stretching, preparing for the work ahead of her. "It's _me_ you have to watch out for."

Aloth shrugged. "Either way, you're probably better off out there with us than here, being sized up for a noose by every other neighbor."

"Can't argue with that. Aw, what the Hel. Sure, I'll do some sightseeing with you folks." Edér grinned at the two of them, his broad, ruddy face brightening considerably. "Where's our first stop on this little roadtrip? We're buyin' supplies, I suppose?"

Axa winced, clutching at her sad, barren little coinpurse. "Uh. Listen... About that--"

\---


	6. Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edér and Aloth talk about Axa behind her back.

\---

"She's the real thing, isn't she?"

Aloth looked up from his grimoire at the blond man, startled. Until now, Edér had seemed content to ignore him for the most part, more interested in discussing recent Dyrwoodan history and Eothasian theology with their orlan directress. Not that Aloth minded. After all, the less attention drawn to himself, the better. And it was always a boon to be up to date on current events. And to practice his eavesdropping.

But now that Axa had excused herself from their campsite temporarily (sardonically citing "urgent business" to attend to in the bushes), the folk man turned his attention to Aloth. He thrust his bristly, blond chin toward the scrub brush nearby, gesturing into the darkness beyond the campfire, where Axa had walked off a few minutes prior.

"That girl's really a Watcher." He shook his head, his expression filled with wonder. "I was maybe expectin' a cipher with an inflated ego at best. But far as I can tell, she's bonafide."

"It would appear so," Aloth replied after a beat, remaining as carefully neutral as he could. "I must admit, I had my doubts at first. Even suspicions-- albeit slight-- that she may simply be losing her mind, hallucinating and so forth. But the more we see her use her... unique abilities, the more her assertions are corroborated by the real world, the more undeniable the truth becomes: she _is_ a Watcher."

Edér smiled crookedly at the elf, eyeing him curiously. "...Right. That's, uh, what I meant, more or less."

_Ye sound a right fuckin' twat, lad._

Aloth bit the inside of his mouth until he tasted blood.

An awkward silence descended over the two men, Edér propping his chin on his fist and gazing into the fire, lost in thought. Aloth stared into his open grimoire, but found he could not focus to read.

"I knew somethin' was up with Perly and Ingroed. And Nonton," Edér murmured, shaking his head and furrowing his brow. "Just couldn't quite figure out what. But the _temple_..." He sighed, heavy with melancholy. "Black bones, what a mess. Wish someone like her'd have showed up a few weeks back. ...Few _years_ back."

And although Aloth knew he should at least try to be amicable, he found himself too consumed by his own thoughts to engage the farmer further. Instead, he politely pretended to listen while he ruminated over the day's events.

\---

It had started with a few simple tasks. Edér had led the three of them around town, asking if any favors needed doing in exchange for coin and supplies to get to Caed Nua. The villagers seemed surprised and delighted to actually have help with their problems for once, and the three of them had taken to their work with vigor, reuniting a stolen shipment with the town blacksmith and the inn's cook with his stove and cauldron in a single afternoon. They had been on their way back to town yet again, spirits high, when Axa had remembered the hunter she'd met the other day, the bear who'd killed his companion.

_"What do you think, lads?"_ she'd asked, hands on her hips as she stared into the mouth of the cave. _"Shall we nip this one in the bud?"_ She had turned to Edér, her expression cautious and grave. _"It killed your neighbor, Edér. How long before it happens again?"_

The three kith had come to a consensus quickly, and advanced upon the bear's den, weapons drawn. The beast was slain easily enough, and Edér identified the kith body in the cave as that of his neighbor, Perly. But of course it wasn't as simple as all that.

Aloth had seen her first, had had to elbow Edér in the side to get him to take notice. Just like before, at the tree, Axa had stood above the dead man in the cave, transfixed by something invisible to her two companions. They had traded concerned looks briefly before turning their attention back to her, waiting for the little woman's episode to end.

Thankfully, it didn't last nearly as long as the one before had, but when she snapped back to awareness and turned to face them, Aloth had felt his heart dip into his stomach. She looked like a woman just told about her husband's infidelity. _So much for high spirits._

_"We're heading back into town, now,"_ she'd said quietly. _"Edér. Tell me everything you know about Nonton, Ingroed, and Perly."_

He did.

\---

And then... she had let them go.

Honestly, that was what had surprised Edér the most: despite her quick temper and no-nonsense attitude, she was remarkably softhearted when the situation allowed. She had showed little hesitation dispatching other kith, as he had observed during their skirmishes with bandits. But when she'd pressed the couple of conspirators, they'd confessed, and when they'd explained, she'd _listened_.

When they'd asked her to accept their meager savings in exchange for her silence, she'd pushed the coinpurse away. _"No. No one should have to live in fear like that,"_ she'd declared, her gaze fixed on the fading bruise on the woman's face. _"...And everyone deserves a second chance. You take that coin and start your lives anew."_

A memory of Elafa brushed against his thoughts, but only for a second.

Edér couldn't remember the last time he'd seen anyone in Gilded Vale shed tears of _joy_ , and the memory of Ingroed wiping her tears away as she followed Nonton brought a slight smile to his lips even now as he stared into the fire.

"Well... I have always heard that orlans are intense and emotional. And that's exactly how I'd describe her. Just... not in the way I expected, I guess." The folk man could tell Aloth had only been half listening, but he'd pressed on anyway, talking as much to himself as to the elf. "She even stayed her hand against _Wirtan_ , after what he did. Don't know if I could, if it'd just been me there with him alone. She ain't from Gilded Vale, though, of course. So... maybe it's just me."

Now Edér fell suddenly silent, and Aloth glanced up at him. _Wirtan. The priests in the cellar._ He shuddered, and felt a pang of sympathy for the Eothasian across from him.

_And she not only stayed her hand. She let **him** go, too._

\---

_"You lied to me, Wirtan."_

The gaunt, wiry man had squirmed under Axa's scrutiny, trembled and stammered as he explained himself. She was at least two heads shorter than him, but her fervor, her quiet, indignant fury had had the same effect as though she had towered over him.

But then, the desiccated corpses strapped to her back-- that she'd insisted on carrying back herself-- lent her a certain authority, too.

Once again, she did not come out swinging, the way your typical Dyrwoodan might. She'd asked him _why_ he did what he had done, and she had _listened_. And he'd told her everything: how he'd tried to warn them, how he'd tried to help them hide. How he'd abandoned them to their fate, terrified of his Lord's retribution.

_"So you killed them,"_ Edér had snarled. _"Or you may as well have. You never thought to tell anyone? Try to get some folks together to save 'em?"_

_"Sure, and get the whole lot of us executed,"_ Wirtan had snapped back, clutching at his bloody wound and glowering at the Eothasian. _"I'm sure the Scattered God would love yet another martyr."_

_"At least then you could have died with some honor left to your name,"_ Edér had retorted hotly, _"instead of having to live as the murderin'_ ** _coward_** _you are--"_

_"Edér. Please."_

She'd turned toward him, her hand raised in a bid for peace, and everyone had looked to her, awaiting her judgment.

_"He's right, Wirtan. You are a coward. But... lesser circumstances have made cowards of stronger kith than you. And you cannot undo what you've done, now."_

She'd forced the bundled remains of the priests into his arms, looking hard into his eyes.

_"The question that remains isn't whether you can make it up to them. You can't. The question that remains is: can you do right by them the best you're able to now? Can you live a better life, be a better man than you've been?"_

He could try.

\---

_Bold, blunt, irascible. Not fond of liars. But... conscionable. Kind at heart, quick to forgive._ Aloth was starting to notice a pattern in the little woman's behavior, one that might prove very beneficial to him.

_Sure, she were tailor-made fer ye, laddie! Now see if she fits in yer lap nice 'n snug--_

He slapped himself in the face, drawing an odd look from Edér.

"Damned horseflies." Aloth smiled blithely back at him, and the farmer cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing, turning his attention back to the campfire.

Yes. After all he'd seen, after his careful deliberations, this arrangement, Aloth had decided, was his best prospect: following a stranger to a castle because she could talk to the dead. It felt like a bad joke, but then, so did most of his life when he really thought about it.

_And if she can lead me to some sort of punchline without managing to get me killed, I'll be better off than I was when she found me._ He could feel his conviction solidify in his chest, in his stomach. They would reach Caed Nua tomorrow afternoon, and then--

"Think Maerwald'll know what t' do for us?" Aloth jumped a bit at Edér's voice. "I haven't heard any news out of Caed Nua in, oh, years. Don't even really know if he's still there."

The elf gave the folk a polite smile. "I certainly hope so. Otherwise, we might be in for some difficult nights. I've been informed of-- and witnessed first-hand-- the difficulties Watchers sometimes have sleeping."

He looked at the wizard as if for the first time. "Y' know," Edér murmured, "I never even considered I'd still be followin' her after we met up with Maerwald. But now that I think of it..."

"You'll not be rid of me that easily, I'm afraid." Axa's reappearance was sudden, but not startling. Chanter training, Aloth imagined, easing the surprise with her soft, dulcet tones while still ensuring she was heard. "But I promise to try to keep my nightmares to a minimum."

The farmer grinned broadly at the little woman. "There y'are. Nightmares, huh? I been there."

_Goan, lad, ask 'er dae she e'er dream o' bouncin' li'e a coney in a elf lad's arms--_

"Shut _up_ ," he hissed, turning his quickly reddening face away from the orlan, realizing his error when he saw Edér's dumbstruck expression.

Axa's voice was soft and low and even. "...Sorry, come again?"

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some fun insight into Iselmyr's last comment, look up the etymology of the word "coney" ♡


	7. Crumbling Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dubious honor, inheriting a fortress both broken and cursed.

\---

Caed Nua stood, a mossy, neglected tombstone hunching above the sprawling, untamed foliage of the Yenwood. Its once mighty towers rose from the center of the ruined castle, climbing only midway to the sky before succumbing to gravity and the ravages of age. The walls surrounding the estate slumped and buckled as well, having sloughed away in places to reveal the overgrown bailey and the collapsed, rotting buildings therein.

Axa let her eyes wander over the derelict keep.

"What a shithole," she muttered.

Her flippant words did little to mask her disappointment, and although Aloth noticed this, he decided to say nothing. Anything he said would probably only make her feel worse, seeing as he was now almost utterly certain that if she was-- _if they were_ to find anyone to advise on matters of the soul, it would not be here, in this place seemingly forsaken by kith. But he also knew by now that trying to deter the little woman from her goals was nigh impossible, so he trailed doggedly behind her, scepter and grimoire at the ready. After all, it wasn't as though he had any more promising leads to follow, and what she lacked in subtlety she more than made up for in determination. _A disposition which with I am most certainly well acquainted,_ he thought bitterly, the resulting headache quite worth the barb.

Edér, either out of ignorance of Axa's true emotional state or in a good-natured attempt to lighten the mood, took a different approach and tried to joke with her, remarking aloud on the poor quality of Maerwald's gardeners. But he'd scarcely gotten the words out when the orlan gesticulated fiercely to him for silence, pivoting her long, tapered ears over to her left and listening intently. It wasn't long before her companions heard it too-- a low, steady humming coming from just beyond the bridge before them, behind the overgrown hedge, right outside of the walls of Caed Nua.

"Oh, _good._ We're not alone," Aloth whispered, reaching for his grimoire.

"This trip just keeps gettin' better," Edér sighed, drawing his blade.

Axa squinted in the direction of the humming noise, and a strange grin slowly spread across her flaxen face.

"...Is that Sea of Miracles?"

And she marched off confidently toward the moldy castle walls, her companions scrambling to keep up.

\---

"Refrain of the Soul, actually," the gigantic man replied, his pointed teeth bared in a friendly smile. "But you were close! Both ballads _were_ composed by the selfsame skald--"

"Uwēno the Elder!" Axa laughed, clapping her hands together. "Of course! And in the same year, if I remember correctly."

Aloth watched the two bards, utterly bemused. No matter how he tried to prepare himself for what might come, the world always managed to defy his expectations in the most bizarre ways. After they'd heard deep, tremulous murmurs in these abandoned ruins, he'd been sure he'd spend the next hour hurling arcane flame at hostile spirits or hungry wildlife, or maybe even bandits or cultists. Instead, he had found himself awkwardly fumbling to secure his weapons, trailing after Axa while she strode directly to the source of the noise: an enormous, _very_ amicable aumaua man with whom she was now excitedly chattering about ancient Rauataian songstresses. After the surprise had worn off, he was obliged to wait quietly while they talked, feeling oddly like a petulant child waiting for his mother to finish speaking with another adult.

Glancing over at Edér, who looked as though he hadn't a thought in his head, Aloth felt a mild twinge of envy.

The farmer grinned back at the elf, content to idle for a few pleasant moments while the large shark man and the tiny cat lady laughed together at jokes he couldn't even begin to understand. Honestly, he was just happy to see the poor girl relaxed and in her element, for once. _And_ they hadn't had to fight any screaming monsters! ...Yet.

"Kana Rua," the giant boomed, bending slightly at the waist to extend his hand to Axa, "of the royal city of Tâkowa and her esteemed lore college. Are you, perchance, here to see Maerwald? I assume you haven't come all this way to discuss music history with strangers!" His dark eyes, wide with curiosity, shifted to the other two men. "And with a retinue, no less!"

"Axa Mala," the little woman chuckled, "and my traveling companions, Aloth Corfiser and Edér Teylecg. We are indeed here for Maerwald's counsel. I'm a Watcher, it seems, and I'm hoping he can offer some insight into our shared condition. And yourself?"

Both Kana's eyes and his smile had grown steadily as she spoke. "You're a Watcher? Truly? ...Well, I'm afraid my own reasons for seeking Maerwald aren't nearly so extraordinary. I was hoping he could direct me to a tablet of great historical and cultural import to my people, the Tanvii ora Toha. Only... I've had some difficulties in actually getting near the place."

He winced in the direction of the stone archway leading past the walls of Caed Nua and into its wild, unkempt yard. They couldn't see the dark spirits beyond the castle gate, but they didn't need to. All four kith could _feel_ the dark spirits' presence, falling silent for a moment as the malevolent essence in the air prickled and picked at the edges of their souls.

"To meet the master of the estate, it seems one must first neutralize his spectral visitants, or else find a way around them. I'm... afraid I haven't had much luck at either by myself."

"Ah," Edér groaned, feeling his bowels churn with the sick, primal fear spirits always instilled in him. " _There's_ that fight I knew was gonna happen."

"But this is a _magnificently_ serendipitous encounter!" Kana grinned again, bigger and brighter than the sun, spreading his arms before the group as though to embrace all of them just for being there. "I _was_ planning to finish jotting down these notes, set up camp for the evening, and simply trek to the nearest village tomorrow to hire a helping hand. But since we've the same goal, and you all look quite capable--"

"A collaborative effort?" Axa finished for him, stepping closer to the huge man. "I'm all for it, as long as there are no objections." The orlan glanced back at her companions.

"You'll hear no dissent from me."

"Hey, the more the merrier."

The little woman turned back to the aumaua with a wink. "That settles it, then! Welcome to my _retinue_ , Kana Rua. With you at our shoulders, we ought to make short work of these ghastlies."

His already broad smile broadened ever further. "And we shall hold conference with Maerwald before sundown! I'm _certain_ of it!"

\---

_Soldier and marauder. Soldier and marauder and Maerwald._

At sundown, they finished burying the keep's former master.

Axa gazed out over the bailey-- _her_ bailey, this was _her keep_ now _(??!!)_ \-- at the freshly filled grave next to the chapel. Her thoughts buzzed frantically like a swarm of panicked hornets behind her eyes, and she couldn't focus on a single thought long enough to make sense of any one of them.

_No sleep. No sleep for the Watcher._

"I think... I'm going slightly mad."

Edér frowned sympathetically, placed a heavy, calloused hand on the little woman's shoulder. "Hey, c'mon. It ain't as bad as all that, is it?" He'd done most of the digging, being more acquainted with the work than anyone else, and his hand left a sizable smudge of grave dirt on her tunic.

She didn't look at him. "I'm _going_ to go _completely_ mad. I'm a Watcher, and I'm Awakened, and there's some sort of Woedican cult behind it, and if I can't find them, or if they can't undo this, then I'm going to lose my mind and die. Just like him." To her mild surprise, no tears welled in her eyes or spilled down her cheeks. Although her eyes felt hot and swollen, she supposed she was simply too overwhelmed, too exhausted to cry anymore.

Kana, eye level with the woman as she leaned against the adra pillar under which he was seated, studied her face while he considered his approach. "Well... if it's of any comfort to you, you at least know what to expect in regards to your condition. You know where you're going next, you've an entire keep to set yourself up in while you search." That gregarious smile opened up his face again. " _And_ you've a band of loyal flunkies at your beck and call!"

"And a magic talkin' stone chair lady t' take care of most of the housekeeping for you." Edér grinned down at her, brushing the dirt from her shoulder with a casual familiarity. "All things considered, you got dealt a bad hand, but at least the deck is lookin' like it's stacked in yer favor."

Axa pricked up her ears, and turned to regard the blond man with a mix of wonder and disgust. "...I don't know if that's the _best_ or the _worst_ mixed metaphor I've ever heard."

He chuckled as he stuck his pipe between his teeth. "No idea what yer talkin’ about there, lil' darlin'."

She finally laughed, brushing at her dry, sticky eyes with her fists, and Kana laughed too, throwing an arm around her shoulder. "See there! The ship floats yet. Tomorrow the eastern barbican will be restored, and then off to Defiance Bay, where answers abound! ...If Maerwald spoke true, anyway."

_Poor woman. They will take you, too--_

"Might look for some answers there myself, if you'll go with me." The farmer let loose a plume of smoke as he spoke, failing to finish exhaling before turning to the little Watcher. "Been thinkin' about what I wanted to ask ol' Maerwald before... well, before all that had to go down. About my brother, Woden. Think I might find at least a... _hint_ or somethin' in the big city." He passed his pipe to her, and she did not hesitate to accept it.

"Mysteries _upon_ mysteries!" Kana's booming voice in her ear made her wince. "The Eyeless Seer must have you in their sights, my friend. Pun _fully_ intended!"

"For the love of the gods," she groaned,

_For the gods' love! For their love!! the old man sobbed--_

a sudden headache gripping her behind the eyes, "is Aloth finished setting up in there or what?"

\---

_Nae they willnae._

"Oh yes they _will_. It's inevitable now."

Aloth's grimoire trembled in his hands, sweat dribbling down his temple as he tried to focus. The large, broken brazier he'd dragged into the middle of the great hall wasn't a small target for a spell, but it wasn't exactly a large one either. And it didn't help that Aloth felt as though he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

_They willnae find oot, laddie._

"They _will._ All because _someone_ can't keep their thoughts to _themselves_."

It hadn't been difficult to convince the others to allow him to set up camp for the night by himself. Axa had not seemed very eager to socialize after she'd landed the killing blow on the old man, and Edér and Kana had quickly volunteered to take care of the remains. And after the confrontation with Maerwald, after what the old Watcher had told them, Aloth had been desperate for solitude.

_Fye, they wouldnae_ **_need_ ** _t' find oot aught if ye'd tellt 'em sooth from th' start as ye oughttae--_

He'd rushed his recitation, and now he flourished too haphazardly, and the arcane fire he called forth flashed and spouted violently into the rusty little brazier. Aloth hissed with pain and surprise as the unruly flames licked at his face, singed his hair.

_"Damn you!"_ he screamed, whirling quickly around, shielding his face with his arms. "You _dare_ to-- You _always do this_ , you--" The wizard cut himself off. He squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his fists at his sides. He needed to stop and calm down, _right now_.

_One._ He exhaled. He inhaled. He exhaled.

_Buck up, Corfiser. Your situation is_ **_not_ ** _that dire._

_Two._ He shook his hands out of their tight fists, flexed his fingers.

_No one has any concrete evidence. Of_ **_anything_ ** _. And no one has said anything. Yet._

_Three._ His shoulders twitched, tried to lock back up, but finally slumped, laden with nervous exhaustion.

_They_ **_will_ ** _find out. About... us. That's an inevitability._

_Four._ His ears, pressed back flat against his head in irritation, started to slowly droop down and forward.

_But that's not necessarily a bad thing._

_Five._ His hands hung limp at his sides now. His breathing and heart rate slowed.

_For one, the same taboos don't apply here like they do back home. Look at how the others responded to Axa, for instance._

_Six._ He pressed his lips into a thin line, lowering his head until his chin touched his clavicle.

_And if Axa can find out more information about her condition, and if she'll have me along, maybe..._

_Seven._ He wrapped his arms around himself, cupping his elbows in his hands.

_But... then, if she finds out about... and Kana has made enemies of them, too-- oh_ **_gods_ ** _, this isn't--_

_Eight._ He started pacing back and forth. He was shaking all of a sudden, gasping for breath.

_This isn't working-- Why isn't-- I need to--_

_Nine._ He heard the doors to the Great Hall creak slowly open, but he kept his eyes screwed shut. He couldn't open them, couldn't until ten--

_Oh gods, if I've been wrong this_ **_whole time_ ** _\--_

_Ten._ He opened his eyes.

Axa touched him on the elbow, and he actually yelped in surprise.

" _Axa!_ I'm-- You're back! H-how can... I help you?" He winced, looking away from her as he felt his face grow warm. Kana was off to his right, humming merrily away and taking notes about the keep's interior or somesuch; Edér was rummaging through his things, likely looking for more whiteleaf.

Axa herself looked at him with concern-- or was that just his imagination?-- and cocked her thumb at the now-calm campfire, the meticulously arranged bedrolls. "You've helped more than enough, I'd say. Thank you for doing this."

He prepared to suppress a relieved smile, but she took care of it for him. "Aloth, are you-- have you been feeling alright?"

"Wh-- well, I mean-- _yes,_ yes, of course, just-- I've just been a bit... distracted, processing some of the... _unusual_ things we've all seen as of late." He never knew how he managed to fool anybody: here he was, heart pounding in his chest, fidgeting, eyes darting to and fro, insisting he was _just fine, thank you._

Nevertheless, the little woman regarded him with sympathy and spoke in a low, soothing tone. "That's understandable. I think we've all had some rather unsettling revelations recently."

"We certainly have, you foremost among us." Aloth had started to recover and he straightened up, tugging at his clothes, dusting himself off, all those little tricks he'd learned to explain away his tics and outbursts. "If what Maerwald said is true, your very life and future are in jeopardy."

She frowned, turning her attention away from him-- just as he'd hoped she might-- and sighed heavily, staring at her feet. "Yes. Yes, I've got quite a lot to contend with. Whoever or _what_ ever this Leaden Key is, I have to find them. Sooner the better. My sanity, my _life_ could depend on it."

"Indeed." His composure finally restored to a respectable level, Aloth gave the orlan his best diplomatic smile and nod. "Rest assured, I shall accompany you and render what aid I can on our journey to Defiance Bay."

" _Why?_ "

His heart _stopped_. "...I beg your pardon?"

A look of shock flashed across her face, followed closely by a bashful grimace. "I'm-- I'm sorry. Never mind. It's been a long day, I... I should get some rest. You, too. Long day tomorrow as well." These last few lines were delivered half-mumbled over her shoulder as she shuffled over toward her belongings, which he had carefully arranged a safe distance from the fire, close by to his own things. He tried, but found he could not muster a verbal farewell, instead struggling to keep a neutral facade even as she walked away from him.

"...I think she knows."

_An impatient, long-suffering sigh._

_Nae she disnae._

\---

_Maerwald sat at his hearth and watched his fire. Watched the wood burn._

Axa sat in the Great Hall of Caed Nua's keep and gazed into the makeshift campfire.

_I'm sorry, old man. At least... I was able to release your soul from this place. You can truly rest, now._

Her three comrades slept peacefully in their bedrolls, the ugly, dark things in the keep-- _her_ keep-- kept at bay by the light and warmth from the fire _and_ from the Steward, both, Axa imagined. Of course, she found herself unable to rest, although she was exhausted. No sleep for the Watcher.

_The soul remembers--_

A memory. A memory caused this. And that man, the one in the ruins-- he called that memory forth.

_Who is he? Was he? Is he the same person from... from my past life? How is that possible...?_

Axa squinted into the flames, trying to remember him. She pictured his face--

_\--you, Anthea? My child, what--_

\-- and suddenly powerful waves of emotion hammered the little woman's mind, choking out all other thought. Tears flooded her eyes and poured down her face as just the _memory_ of the man's voice, of his cold, stony stare filled her mind with horror and rage and sorrow for which she had no explanation. If only she could remember more, remember the question she--

_\--ask him ask him ask him please you have to ask him you have to know you have to have to--_

Axa crawled to her bedroll, trembling and sniffling, and collapsed, where she remained for the next eleven hours.

She only slept for four of them.

\---


	8. Cleaning House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her home is not her castle. Her castle is not her home. Axa and crew take care of business at Caed Nua.

\---

"Wael's eyes, man, slow down. It's midmorning yet!"

Axa got up on the tips of her toes and leaned over to pluck the bottle from the old man's surprisingly strong grip, her headache intensifying as she caught a whiff of his rancid breath. She had been mostly joking when she ordered Kana to bring out the wine for their guest, but once she'd seen the delight in the poor old salt's face, the sparkle in his eyes when presented with goblet and bottle-- well, how could she refuse?

She glared at the aumaua now, clutching her _last_ bottle of pomegranate wine, barely a quarter full after the old man's assault. Kana winced apologetically at her, but the little woman only smiled wryly and shrugged. It was as much her own fault as it was his, and she knew it.

The old man laughed good-naturedly, revealing a mouth only half full of teeth, and toasted his hostess with his borrowed goblet. "Early it may be, m'lady," he rasped, a strange sailor's brogue coloring his Aedyran, "bu' this elt lad dosnae rest. An' Magran help us, nei'r dae th' thirst." The old man sloshed the wine in his cup as he spoke, slopping it over the lip and onto the dusty stone floor more than once, before smacking his lips and merrily sucking down what remained inside.

As she had predicted, the night had not gone easily for the newly minted Watcher of Caed Nua. What little sleep she'd managed to get had been plagued by nightmares about books and machines, promises and betrayals, adra and copper and blood. And when sleep had failed her, she'd squirmed in her bedroll, tossing and turning and sweating and groaning. And thinking-- lots of thinking.

But in spite of it all-- perhaps, in fact, _because_ of her sleeplessness-- her awareness felt bizarrely heightened. It reminded her of her all-night research sessions in her old college life: standing there practically vibrating from murkbrew and nervous energy, feeling simultaneously like she was strong enough to lift a horse over her head _and_ like she was about to collapse. Scrutinizing the drunken old salt, she squinted resolutely against her headache, determined not to let anything escape her notice.

Axa saw the gnarled fingers, knotted with age, and she watched the unsteady, drunken gesticulations that spilled her favorite wine onto the cobwebs and mouse shit that decorated her Great Hall. But she also saw that the hand itself was steady: not tremulous, but strong and sure. The half-lidded, drink-addled eyes took a while to fully focus, but once he managed to fix his gaze on hers, she could see a remarkably fierce little twinkle in his mischievous eyes.

"Engrim, you said your name is?"

"Pretty much everyone calls him _Eld_ Engrim," Edér drawled, leaning against a stone pillar while fiddling with his pipe. "He's from around here somewhere, but he tends t' spend most of his time on the sea. Or in whichever tavern's nearest. Probably came in from Anslog's Compass lookin' for a little shore leave, ended up owin' someone a favor and havin' to hoof it all the way out here for 'em." Despite the content of his introduction, the farmer spoke with fondness, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled warmly at the old man. "That sound about right, Eld Engrim?"

The old sailor cackled and nodded, clutching his empty goblet in front of himself with both hands like a talisman. "Aye, laddie, ye've got me fairly figured! Masons in yer Vale promised me a fine bottle o' spirits should I answer 'em this missive from oul' Caed Nua, abandoned all these long years. Although, ye did neglect t' address me Mistress, heathen that ye be, She whose spark 'n flame lit me way here!" He winked obnoxiously and wagged a crooked finger at the Eothasian, like a grandfather teasingly scolding his grandson.

Axa had not missed the telltale signs of a Magranite priest. The smell, in particular, of singed hair and arcane flame had tipped her off.

"You didn't think the priesthood of Ondra might suit you better?" Aloth's lip curled with disgust as he regarded the man, glaring at him over the edge of his grimoire. He had been broody all morning, Axa had noticed, and the elf seemed particularly irritated by the old lush.

"Not if he's a cannoneer," Kana suggested. "I can see where you might get Ondra-- the sea, drink and forgetfulness, those common themes-- but many who work with munitions, and especially ships, keep a Magranite priest on their payroll for their beneficial healing magic as well as for their blessings on and expertise with explosives." He grinned toothily at the elf, beaming with intellectual pride.

Aloth twitched, then spoke in a calm, low voice behind his gritted teeth. "If that's the case, why is he here running errands for stonemasons in Gilded Vale instead of mumbling over a double bronzer or something somewhere out on the sea?"

Axa turned her attention to her guest. "Good question, actually. Maybe you'd care to tell me a bit more about yourself while we make our way back to Gilded Vale, Engrim?"

The old man's eyes bugged out of his head, flicking back and forth between the orlan and his empty goblet. "Och, young miss, ye cannae mean t' be gettin' t' Gilded Vale _now!_ 'Tis a day's sojourn, an' rovin' bands o' bandits roam o'er th' roads, Magran bash 'n burn 'em! An' 'ave only just _arrived,_ me!" He looked around at her companions' faces, groping wildly for support, and found only pity and scorn for this man foolish enough to think to argue with her.

"He... _does_ speak true, my lady." The Steward's voice rang out gently from the halls of the old keep. "No guard patrols have been dispatched along Caed Nua's surrounding roads since old Maerwald's decline into madness, and the paths surrounding the estate have been infested with brigands and monsters alike." As her voice faded, a soft little blanket of sadness settled over the gathered kith like a light dusting of snow.

Axa shuddered. "All the more reason, then, to get going. For better or worse, this keep is _mine_ now, _my_ responsibility." She paused, vaguely unnerved as she perceived the Steward's blush of surprise, followed closely by a soft, tentative gratitude. "The only people I can count on to restore my barbican are not, apparently, ready to take me seriously, so it seems I must issue my orders face to face. And I _need_ this barbican restored. Unless, of course, Aedelwan Bridge is no longer flooded?"

Engrim shrugged, fiddled with the stem of his goblet, shuffled his feet. "Nae, no, 'tis... 'tis nae _flooded_..."

"It's _destroyed,_ " Kana chirped. "Ondra's mighty fist at work! I learned from a traveling hunter just the other day. The Dyrwood can't seem to steer clear of the gods' wrath, can--"

"We're going to Gilded Vale, today. Right now." Axa paused, hand on her hip, and then downed the remainder of _her_ wine, time of day notwithstanding. She almost flung the empty bottle to the floor in a fit of pique, but then remembered the Steward, and quickly tamped down her temper. "...I want this barbican fixed. I want to get to Defiance Bay. By the _Wheel,_ if the only way to get it done is to do it myself, I _will._ "

No one could argue with that.

\---

It was a satisfying sound, the scuffle of boots and the shouts of workers. _Especially,_ Axa thought, _when you know they're going to work for you._ Although she knew the work couldn't begin for another day or two, Axa still felt a distinct sense of accomplishment as she strode out of the Hound, listening to the masons hustling behind her.

"Well, considerin' how drunk they all were, I'm surprised that went as well as it did." Edér clapped the little woman on the shoulder, grinning broadly and chewing gently on the stem of his pipe.

Aloth's voice drifted to her over her opposite shoulder. "Indeed, especially after the _third_ time they addressed their questions to Edér and not to _you_ , despite your repeated and... exponentially sonorous objections."

"Let it be known that the new Lady of Caed Nua does not suffer fools gladly," Kana proclaimed. "Although, speaking of fools... I can't help but notice the sun is setting, Caed Nua is almost a full day's hike away, and we're... _leaving_ the inn?"

Axa smiled. "Remember we met Aufra on our way in? I offered to stay with her tonight, cook her some dinner, keep her company. I trust none of you object?"

No one did. She paused, and when she spoke again, she was much more subdued, almost somber.

"Last time I saw her, I was telling her her potion was horseshit and the fate of her unborn babe's soul was up to the caprices of the gods. Least I can do now is put my money where my mouth is and be the good neighbor that girl needs right now."

They walked in silence for a short stretch.

"If I'm bein' honest-- and I actually _am,_ sometimes-- I been noticin' a lotta changes around here since we got back. Lot more smilin' people in the streets." Edér strolled up beside Axa, his blond whiskers quirking up with his grin. "Wasn't like that before you showed up. ...'Course, there _is_ still that tree fulla dead bodies in the center of town..."

Kana winced. "Yes, I was wondering about that--"

"It's a long and gruesome tale." The man in the green cloak stepped out into the road, and Axa stopped dead in her tracks, placing herself between the stranger and her companions. "But I'd tell it, if you'd listen. You and the good Lady both."

" _Kolsc._ " Edér whispered, surprised, but not angry. Axa's gaze flicked up to the stranger's face as he limped closer.

\---

"...Did I fuck this up?"

Edér looked up from his whittling, focusing his good eye on the little woman. The other eye was still swollen shut, shiny and painful from their fight against his late Lord, but with some rest and the help of Raedric's priests-- Kolsc's priests, now-- he and the rest of his friends would be good as new for the trek back to Caed Nua tomorrow.

"Ain't too many ways I can think of to fuck up killin' a terrible murderin' bastard like Raedric," he mumbled around his mouthful of smoke, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Unless y' think we didn't kill him _enough,_ or somethin'."

Axa's lips smiled, but the rest of her face did not follow suit. Her party was spending the night in a corner of the Berathian priests' sleeping quarters in Raedric's sanctuary, and she sat on her borrowed bed gently rocking to and fro, her knees drawn up to her chest, her sharp little nails worrying tiny holes in her trousers.

_"The Legacy makes men mad. Perhaps it does worse to women. I do not know." Raedric had looked Axa over, then, had glanced toward his bedchamber where his own wife lay dead in their marital bed--_

"No, we killed him exactly the right amount, I think." The smile was already gone, soundly quashed by the ugly memory. "I just... feel like I may have acted in haste here. Like there's something I'm missing about all this that's going to bite me in the ass later, when I least expect it." She pressed her chin into her knees, curling up as tightly into herself as she could.

_\--if i make myself small enough i can just hide away from all this and no one will see me--_

Kana chuckled, idly leafing through a massive tome that dwarfed even his sizable lap as he reclined in the worn armchair next to Axa's bed. "Yes, it _is_ a rough sea, the world of the ruling class! So many nerve-wracking social calculations to make, always looking over one's shoulder... The political alliances to take into account, then the _family_ alliances, the _religious affiliations_... But even the Ranga Nui himself and his own _son_ are at ideological odds! And if you're discovered as a fair-weather friend, paying lip service to either or _both_ \--"

"I _think,_ " Aloth interrupted, "perhaps, that you've made your point, Kana." The elf was just as irritable now as he had been the morning that old drunk had showed up at Caed Nua, and his half-healed broken rib was not helping to improve his mood.

 _And now the in-fighting begins in the esteemed Lady of Caed Nua's exclusive inner circle._ Axa felt her guts redouble their efforts to destroy themselves, anxiety churning inside her like acid. "Gods, I'm ill-suited for this politicking horseshit. Why did I think I could do this? I'm Ixamitec, we don't... nobody _'owns'_ land, that's not how--"

"Oh, don't get me wrong!" Kana pressed on, seemingly oblivious to Aloth's peevish attitude. "Just as hard lands forge strong people, rough seas often yield great rewards. For instance, when we return to Caed Nua on the morrow, we can look forward to seeing your Brighthollow manse restored to its former beauty and prestige! Well, in part, anyway. All because of your actions here today and Kolsc's gratitude!"

"And even if you _weren't_ gettin' somethin' out of it," Edér added, "you're the kinda lady can't rest without knowing you did the best thing y' could. Point being, y' had to do _something,_ long-term consequences be damned. And like I said earlier, if y' _have_ to do something, it's hard to go wrong with killing a mass-murdering shitheel like Raedric. No matter how bad Kolsc might turn out to be, better him than what we had goin' on before." He casually brushed the wood shavings from his lap, either ignoring or unaware of the annoyed glares and whispers from the priests in the room.

Axa glanced across the room at Aloth, who simply lay on his back in his bed in the corner, eyes screwed shut, his grimoire too heavy to hold in his lap without irritating his wounds. "Maybe," she sighed, lifting her head from her knees, "I should just hire on an advisor. Someone who actually knows what they're doing, to help me navigate these choppy waters." Her gaze flicked to Kana, a wicked little grin popping up on her face. "You know anyone who needs a job?"

The aumaua laughed, a thunderous noise that filled the small room. "Everyone I know is either in this room or in Rauatai, my friend! But I take your meaning. However, my own experience with the gentry is limited to the court of the Ranga Nui, a _profoundly_ different environment from the one in which you find yourself, so I'm afraid I'd be more of a hindrance than a boon. And--" He glanced over at Edér, his smile half apologetic and half cheeky-- "I hope he'll forgive me for saying so, but our Edér doesn't seem like the sort to hobnob with the nobility."

The folk man snorted. "What tipped y' off?"

"That leaves _you_ , Aloth," Kana continued, smiling in the elf's direction. "If I recall, you were raised among the gentry in Aedyr, were you not? That's a bit closer to the political system and aristocratic power structure here; any insight you have into that world would surely be invaluable to our Watcher. You're qualified, intelligent, you're clearly quite learned, you're... _capable_ in battle. Why, you even came to the Dyrwood with the express purpose of finding a patron!" He was getting excited now, leaning forward in his seat, gesticulating passionately. "And here she is! What _marvelous_ serendipity!"

Axa couldn't help but be charmed by Kana's enthusiasm, and she appreciated his effort to lift the wizard's spirits. "That's not a bad idea, actually. What say, Aloth?" She couldn't see his face from where he lay, but she could see his ears were bright red.

 _Not a fan of being the center of attention, I see._ She felt a sudden surge of sympathy and warmth towards the man, and found her own ears reddening soon thereafter.

"I wouldn't take the gig 'f I were you. She can't even _pay_ you, 's what I heard." Edér winked at her, taking his attention away from his whittling for just a second, then hissed with pain and surprise as his knife slipped.

Kana shook his head, his grin as wide as ever as he regarded the farmer with pity. "O, poor man! He who thinks coin is the sole and lone benefit of working for a prestigious, powerful woman like our Watcher! The _true_ rewards of such a vocation are not in material wealth, my friend, but in the _challenge!_ Rebuilding the glorious Caed Nua from the crumbling ruins... The intrigue of the political world of the Dyrwood... the tension, the _drama_... not to mention the treasure trove of ancient Engwithan secrets just _waiting_ to be discovered in the Endless Paths!" He sighed like a lovestruck maiden telling her friends of her handsome beau. "Ah! I'm so envious. Were I more well-suited to the position, I'd have accepted her first offer in an instant! As it is, it seems I'll have to settle for hired muscle. Either way, I couldn't ask for a finer directress!" Now Axa's entire _face_ was getting warm, and she found herself unable to look at Kana, although she could feel his eyes on her, his smile, warming her like gentle spring sunlight.

_"Aye, I wager ye'd **leap** at a position 'neath **'er** , slick-a-britches."_

Aloth _very_ quickly clapped a hand over his open mouth-- the loud **pop!** filling the little room-- and then came the long, shuddering groan of pain muffled behind his fingers, the sudden movement having yanked at his sore ribs.

Axa immediately flopped over onto her side, laughing like Hel, unable and unwilling to stop herself. Edér's eyebrows leapt up his forehead, surprise and delight clear on his face, chuckling through his nose due to the wounded thumb in his mouth.

"...She seems impressed. I think you've got the job, my friend!" Kana quipped, flipping to a new page in his gigantic book. He paused, considering, and then leaned forward in his seat, cocking his head with curiosity. "...Did you say _'slick-a-britches'_?"

"No. I didn't. I said nothing." The elf's voice was quiet and short and clipped. "I'm in immense pain and I'm speaking complete and utter idiotic meaningless nonsense. ...Can we _please_ talk about _anything_ else." Axa was still giggling, tip of her tongue sticking out between her front teeth. He squirmed with embarrassment, and it hurt.

"As you say. How about this animancy research?" The scholar lifted the huge tome on his lap, tilting it up to show Edér as he crossed the room to wash and wrap his thumb. "I'm no animancer, to be sure, but from what little I've managed to decipher from Osyra's records, she _may_ have been onto something!"

Aloth bristled, his breath hitching in his chest as he exhaled a bit too sharply. He _had_ said _'anything else,'_ hadn't he. "All _any_ animancer has accomplished, at the _very_ best, is to swell their own ego and their own coinpurse. In particular, Osrya was a dangerous, insane monster who mutated kith into abominations. I have no interest whatsoever in reading anything that woman may have seen fit to record."

Anyone else would take the man's curt tone and disparaging language as the _opposite_ of an invitation to continue. Kana continued with renewed gusto, "But _if_ what Osrya posits is true-- and as far as I can tell, her methods are _logically_ sound, if not _morally_ \-- why, then this may just provide the solution to the Legacy that the Dyrwood has been searching for these long years!"

Axa had stopped laughing a while back, but only now did she sit back up. She remembered the animancer's words, recited them aloud with an accuracy she would not ordinarily expect from herself--

_"It must be a localized effect. Something which strips the soul from a body, as the bîaŵacs are known to do. I have detected, even so, lingering traces of essence upon the bodies of so-called Hollowborn. This suggests that the soul itself has not been wholly destroyed. It remains, I think, intact somewhere."_

Everyone-- even Aloth, lifting his head from his pillows-- looked at her, dumbstruck. The few priests remaining in the room hurriedly shuffled out, angrily whispering prayers to ward their souls against blasphemy.

"Um." She coughed, suddenly uncomfortably self-conscious. "That was... what _she_ had to say, anyway. Before we had to kill her. ...If I'm remembering correctly."

"That's... what's in here, more or less, yes," Kana blurted, his ever-present grin tinged with nervousness as he shut the enormous book.

"So, what," Edér drawled, squinting at his half-finished carving as he turned it this way and that, "Hollowborn _got_ a soul, but... somethin' or, or some _one_ takes it from 'em soon as they're born?" He furrowed his brow, frowned at a blotch of red on the misshapen wooden thing in his hand. "And... what, hides 'em somewhere? _Eats_ 'em? Why?"

"That would depend, it seems, on who or what is manipulating the souls, I would think." Kana actually frowned, now, staring blankly into the book. "Although I'd be hard-pressed to identify a creature capable of manipulating souls on this grand a scale, for this long, with this much apparent ease and consistency... short of, perhaps, a god." He glanced furtively at Edér, holding up his huge hands in deference. "Not that I'm attempting to implicate any _particular_ deity..."

The farmer shook his head slowly, eyes shut tight with conviction. "Don't worry about _me_ thinkin' that. Like I said before-- I can't and won't believe that Eothas was the kinda god would do somethin' like this."

"Do you believe, then, as some in your country do, that the recent prevalence of animancy is to blame?" The scholar was fumbling for a bit of charcoal, now, eager to take notes. "Keep in mind, the Vailian Republics has _not_ suffered a similar Hollowing despite being the leading animancy practitioners on Eora--"

"Whether the recent uptick in animancy has caused the Legacy by inviting the ire of the gods is nigh impossible to know, and thus pointless to discuss," Aloth interjected, "although I _certainly_ wouldn't put it past many of the gods to come up with a bizarre, horrific punishment like the Legacy in retribution for _any_ slight from us kith, real _or_ perceived.” He glanced balefully at the door the Berathians had shut behind them as they’d left. “What _can_ be meritoriously discussed is what to do about the unbridled, barely educated charlatans taking advantage of a terrified and exhausted populace, using the Hollowborn crisis to feed their sick curiosity and their pocketbooks both. _That_ is the everyday reality of animancy that _must_ be dealt with in the Dyrwood, for the good of the citizenry." He winced in pain, his impassioned argument a bit too much for his battered body. "...Ahem. In my opinion."

"I don't think I know enough about any of it to have much of an opinion about it, bein' honest." Edér scratched the back of his neck, squinting in confusion as Kana eagerly copied down the conversation, his attention ping-ponging excitedly between each successive speaker. "I feel like that whole world is way, way beyond my ken. Might have to leave the thinkin’ to _you_ on that, Boss Lady." He smiled over at the orlan, glad to see her relaxing and engaging with other kith instead of clutching her knees and staring into the middle distance. He'd seen enough of that during the Saint's War. "...Although _some_ of 'em are tryin' to do _somethin'_ about the Legacy, at least. I guess. _This_ animancer was a crazy piece of shit, but she's also the only animancer I ever really chatted with, 's far's I know. So I don't really got a lot to go on. Y'know?"

"Caldara was sweet, and extremely helpful." Axa felt an odd little tug of nostalgia at the memory of the dwarf, her warm, motherly smile. "Of course, she was also dead when I met her. So you'll kind of have to take my word for it. That said, ultimately I have to agree with you, Edér: I don't know _enough_ about animancy to pass any sort of judgment on it just yet. It seems potentially useful, perhaps even _miraculously_ so, but also extremely volatile and dangerous." The little woman paused, stretching her sore limbs, and then laid back down on the bed with a long, cathartic sigh. "Perhaps once we reach Defiance Bay, we can get a clearer picture of what the day-to-day animancy trade is really like. Until then, I must, in good conscience, reserve all judgment on the subject."

"A wise and prudent choice, but indecision is a heavy burden. Never let it be said that our Watcher takes the easy way out!" Kana rose from his seat as he spoke, seeing that the orlan was getting ready to settle in for the night, and crossed the room to his loaner bed. "Speaking of hardships, I've heard tell that the poor weather over the last few days may have delayed the work on Caed Nua's eastern barbican. If, once we return, we find that to be the case... and if you're amenable to a bit of dungeon crawling after all this fresh air and sunshine..."

Axa half-groaned and half-laughed, like a good-natured mother finally losing patience with her annoying toddler. " _Yes,_ Kana, I _promise_ we will explore the Endless Paths. I _already_ promised you before, too, remember?"

"Forgive me!" Kana chuckled as he reclined, his feet dangling over the edge of the too-small bed. "I don't mean to wheedle you, rest assured. But once I get an idea in my head, I tend to focus on it so intently as to neglect politesse!"

"We've noticed," Aloth grumbled.

The massive aumaua turned to Aloth in the bed next to his, smiling still. "That reminds me-- I've never heard that one before, _'slick-a-britches'._ Did you mean to say I slicken _others'_ breeches-- or _britches,_ as you say-- or did you mean _my own_ breeches are slick? As in, ah, lubricated for easier removal?” The giant snickered like a naughty schoolboy telling dirty jokes after dark in the dormitory. “Ondra’s jowls, I didn't even know you _spoke_ Hylspeak! You _must_ teach me some!" He wore no malice on his face, only open, honest joy and wonder-- and for some reason that bothered Aloth _more_ than if the aumaua had been displaying naked hostility.

Axa cackled maniacally in her bed, thrashing her limbs and rolling about. In lieu of responding, Aloth slowly, deliberately pulled his coverlet up over his chin, then his nose, then his brow. His facial expression did not change.

\---

It _was_ a lovely sound, the sound of carpenters and masons plying their trades. Engrim found they sounded even lovelier with a drink in his hand and cool shade under his arse, so that's how he had elected to enjoy the afternoon while he supervised the renovations.

Now that the storm clouds had finally shoved off-- and the Little Mistress was back home with her companions, mucking about in that endless dungeon of hers-- the crew was hard at work clearing the last of the rubble and overgrown foliage from the eastern barbican's arched gateway and portcullis. By tomorrow evening, at long last, Caed Nua would have a beautifully restored barbican, allowing access to the Woodend Plains and Defiance Bay beyond. And in the meantime, Brighthollow was bustling with carpenters and porters, bringing freshly cut lumber and large, fine beds and bolts of cloth and rugs. Prettying up the Great Hall, restoring the barracks, hiring guards and posting patrols-- the fuzzy little thaynu and her stone steward had a _plan_ for this place, and that meant that these laborers could look forward to quite a few more of these jobs and their generous pay.

Engrim smiled his gap-toothed smile, swirling his tankard of cider. It had been a gift for the Little Mistress, sent by a brewery newly under Kolsc's protection, and she had kindly opted to disperse it among the work crews before she and her party had descended into the depths under the castle.

 _Could get used tae this, me. If Ye'd allow fer a wee bit o' idleness, O Magran._ Engrim chuckled to himself. He knew he ought to know better at his age than to press his luck with his goddess, but he just couldn't help himself, sometimes.

It took him a while to realize where the sound was coming from, because he wasn't expecting it to be behind him-- after all, he'd specifically chosen to sit in a place where he could keep an eye on all the work that he was supposed to be helping with. But then Engrim heard the scraping and scratching on the eastern side of the ruined chapel, heard the muffled shouts and the banging of fists against solid wood, and he scrambled to his feet, stumbling as quickly as his skinny old legs would carry him. He'd had to help dispatch some of the beasties and spirits that had managed to wander up from the depths of the Endless Paths once or twice already, but they'd always crawled up from the dungeons, _inside_ the keep. That these old bulkhead doors were connected to anywhere, let alone to the Paths, hadn't occurred to anyone.

Until now. Engrim squared his shoulders and planted his feet, readied his staff, whispered a prayer to the Lady of Battle. Waited and watched as the heavy wooden doors shook with the force of a mighty blow from within.

 _Thump._ "Harder, damn it! Or, no, wait-- is there a mechanism holding it shut? Give him some light, Aloth!"

The old priest felt his eyes bug out of his head. _'Tis 'erself!_ The Little Mistress' voice was unmistakable.

"Certainly, just a moment, please..." And the sound of her elf lad kissing her arse all but confirmed it. Engrim rushed forward, dropping to his rickety old knees in front of the doors, his hands scrabbling at the weathered, graying wood.

"Watcher! Mistress!"

Shocked silence hung in the air for a moment, then: "Engrim!? Thank the gods! ...We _have_ reached the surface!"

"There _is_ a mechanism," her aumaua rumbled, his voice thunderous even behind the thick doors. "A... surprisingly simple one, actually. If I had some light--"

"I _said_ I'm _working_ on it," Aloth snapped, and a moment later the cracks in the doors lit up from within. Engrim squinted against the glare, laid his hands on the twisting, smothering ivy and the dried-up, half-dead rose bushes choking the splintering planks. He furrowed his wrinkled brow, concentrated, began to burn the vegetation away with a care and precision that betrayed his years and level of sobriety.

And before long, the doors were flung wide for the first time in hundreds of years, and the Watcher of Caed Nua and her loyal allies emerged from the Endless Paths.

"Engrim, please tend to Edér; he needs healing badly." Kana gently lowered the farmer to the ground, his blond hair streaked brownish-red with blood, head rolling loose on his shoulders, and Engrim rushed to meet him with a powerful restorative blessing on his boozey breath.

"By the ricketin' Wheel, yer lot's flame's lookin' half-snuffed yerselves!" In truth, all four of them _were_ bleeding and bruised, clutching at their various wounds and limping, although Edér was easily the worst off of the lot. "What in Hel did ye find doon in them depths?"

"Ogres. There were crazed, violent ogres," Axa rasped. "And looters who attacked us on sight. And a tribe of xaurips. _And their drake_." She glared at Kana, anger smoldering. "And you wanted to _press on?_ "

No one present had ever heard Kana speak so softly. "I-- I only remarked on the changing architecture, I didn't mean to imply we ought--"

"Spirits, too. Ghosts only I could see, only I could hear." The little woman carried on, her voice rising steadily in pitch and volume. "A pool of blood and viscera. Ancient catacombs full of giant insects and... and animated corpses. _And an enormous adra-and-copper statue of a man._ "

"Or at least th' head," Edér mumbled, now fully conscious again though still bloodied and reeling. "Copper mustache. Heh."

Axa was at his side in an instant, kneeling next to the farmer, taking one calloused hand in between her own. "Don't speak, Edér. Save your strength."

"...'M not _that_ bad, am I?" He managed a weak smile, tried to look at her eyes, but couldn't seem to get his vision to focus. Multiple images of the orlan danced and swam in front of him, and he found that the more he tried to get one of her to stand still, the harder it became to concentrate on staying awake.

Looking at him in full light, Axa felt her stomach drop: his dilated pupils, his unfocused gaze. _He's definitely concussed. Gods, we're lucky we found that Master Staircase when we did._ "Perhaps," she smiled softly, "I'm being a little hyperbolic. You just _look_ half dead, is all."

The farmer huffed a short, sharp laugh as he let his eyes slide shut. "Work that _charm_ on me, Watcher."

"Kana." Her ire toward the aumaua had receded, but not entirely, and her sharp tone reflected it. "Help Engrim get Edér inside. Stay with him and keep him talking. I'm... I think I have to stay out here for a bit. I kind of need to see the sky right now."

The huge man tried to smile at Axa but found the attempt futile, turning to her only to see her lying on her back in the grass, staring listlessly into the zenith. So he smiled at Edér instead, gently lifting the man by his armpits and guiding him toward Brighthollow, Engrim loping alongside.

He watched them go, and once he was sure they were alone, Aloth slowly, cautiously drew up beside the prone woman. He knelt, rolled his ankle, stumbled, recovered, decided to sit on the ground instead.

"Axa, are you... are you going to be alright?" He winced. _What an insightful, intelligent question to ask, Corfiser; my, you're good at this--_

"Is that supposed to be a joke?" she croaked, although the sharpness that was in her voice for Kana was replaced with a gentler tone for Aloth. He noticed, and the resulting burst of self-satisfaction tinged with guilt made him think of his school days, his teachers who played favorites, how he feared them and craved their approval both.

She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm-- I'll apologize to Kana later, too, I'm just... tired right now. Scared." She tried to smile, grimaced instead. "Cranky."

"Well--" Aloth twisted his fingers together into tight, trembling knots of knuckles and sweat-- "Well. You've been under some... significant stress as of late, it's true, but I can't help but notice you sometimes... struggling. S-seeming to have some difficulty coping." He glanced from his hands in his lap to the ground to his hands to the woman on the ground. "I... I just want to make sure that you're alright to... continue this."

Axa sighed as deeply as her little lungs would allow, her half-lidded eyes still fixed on the heavens. "I don't know," she said at last. "I don't even really know what _this_ is, this... new path I'm on. By the Visions, two weeks ago I was living an entirely different life! Now I'm a _Watcher_ , a member of the Dyrwoodan _gentry_ , I'm _Awakened_..."

"You've a lot on your plate, to be certain," he murmured, hoping he came off as compassionate and not dismissive. He scooted along the ground as delicately as any kith could scoot, until he was sitting alongside the woman. They still had a decent amount of distance between them, but at least now he could see her face. She did not look at him.

"I feel like I don't... know who I _am_ , anymore." Her usually robust, confident voice quavered. "Like this is someone else's life in which I've had to take up residence. None of this feels like it's truly _mine_ , but it definitely feels like it's all my _responsibility_. None of which I ever, ever asked for."

" _Aye, I conne the feelin', lass._ " Aloth felt the words slip out, and then immediately regretted allowing them to, grimacing and squeezing his eyes shut.

When he opened them again, Axa was sitting up. "You can't help it, can you."

His heart, his stomach, his brain-- all felt as though they'd suddenly been submerged in ice water, and as she turned to him with her piercing fuchsia gaze, he half expected her to simply state aloud all of his deceptions and treacheries like some Woedican judge, her Watcher abilities having allowed her to see through all of his pitiful excuses and flimsy lies.

But instead of anger or accusation or judgment, what he saw in her eyes was... relief, almost. Wonder. "The Hylspeak. You can't help it. _That's_ why you keep doing it, even when I've asked you to quit. Or when it's gotten you in trouble. _That's_ why you want to go to Defiance Bay with me. With us. To find someone who can help you stop. Isn't it?"

"I-- I don't-- I was just trying to--" He sputtered and stammered, subconsciously drawing his limbs in close to his torso in an anxious, defensive hunch. He wasn't quite sure how to respond to this. He was caught, it seemed, but... not? Somehow? He fidgeted and trembled and averted his eyes from hers, unable to bear the little woman's gaze, her sad little smile as she rose to her feet and stood next to him.

And he jumped, much to his chagrin, when he felt her hand on his back. "Aloth. You can trust me. I _want_ you to trust me. And you don't have to explain anything to me. We all have our reasons for... keeping certain things to ourselves." She gave him a knowing smile. "However, it seems that the skeletons in your closet are a bit... louder than most others'?"

He knew, of course, what she was really trying to say. _How long did you think you could keep it a secret from me? I'm not stupid, and you're not exactly subtle._ "It's... a problem I've had since I was a child." He sighed shakily, sagging with fatigue as he shrugged off this small portion of his heavy burden at last. "And in Aedyr, it's _not_ the kind of thing you take your child to a healer about. Not unless you want him institutionalized... or worse."

Axa gave him a hard look, as though he had set the policy in place himself. "I see. That explains why you came to the Dyrwood for a cure." She perked up abruptly as a thought struck her. "...You know, it's a rather gratifying feeling, figuring all this out about you. It explains so much!" She smiled again, and he found himself feeling annoyed and charmed simultaneously. He'd expected either pity or disgust, and when he got curiosity instead, he felt oddly slighted. _I'm not a puzzle to be solved...!_

_A lascivious chortle. 'She gettin' ye all fired oop, laddie?'_

He shut his eyes again, curled himself up tightly. "Axa, while I am grateful for your patience with me, and your understanding regarding my... _condition_ , I would truly appreciate it if we could keep this between the two of us. I'm... it's been a long, long time since I've really talked about this with anybody, and I don't think I'm quite ready for a full roundtable discussion regarding my mental health just yet." He glared in the direction of Brighthollow. "Not with _those_ two, anyway. And not anymore, at all, today. Please."

"I had a feeling you were starting to reach your limit of how much you're willing to talk about it." She relented finally, lifting her little hand from between his shoulders, and he felt the weight of her scrutiny lift off of him as well. "And _I'm_ reaching _my_ limit of how much time I'm willing to waste feeling sorry for myself on the lawn. Come, let's get inside, get our wounds tended, check up on Edér. We'll take a day and a half to rest up and get ready, let them finish working on the barbican. Then we'll set off for the city."

Aloth rose to his feet, brushed dirt and grass from his trousers. "In my official capacity as your advisor, I wholeheartedly approve your plan, _my Lady._ " She scoffed, laughing, and he didn't try to suppress his victorious grin. "And... upon arriving?"

She started off toward her busy little manse, the carpenters and masons gawking at the bloody, dirty little orlan with alarm. "I'll know what to do when I get there, I'm sure," she called out to the elf over her shoulder.

He sighed, picking up the pace in an effort to catch up with her. "I was _afraid_ you'd say that."

\---

" _I'll know when I get there,_ he says," the little woman muttered to herself, leaning against the old signpost, thumbing through her bag of bone arrowheads. "Yeah. I'm sure. ...When am I gonna learn, Itumaak?"

The fox yawned in response, licked his snowy chops, and Sagani heaved a weary sigh. Maybe he was right. Maybe it _was_ time to make camp.

The sun was staring to set, and the cooling air brought a refreshing breeze to the little hunter's brow. And in the wind came not only respite from the heat, but information-- smells of nature, smells of kith. Sagani could smell new rain clouds already queueing up, eager to take the place of the last ones that had just departed, but hopefully not so eager as to open up on her tonight. She could not smell any other campfires nearby, so she figured she had a halfway decent chance of getting a good night's rest undisturbed by surprise guests. She was about to say something to Itumaak, head off the road in search of a quiet spot to set up, when she looked down at him--

\-- and found him standing at alert, his head cocked to the side just so, ears pricked. Sagani listened, her breath completely still in her chest.

"A _bear_? You were whittling a _bear_? I thought it was a _horse_!" She'd only ever heard a voice that deep and booming on an aumaua man before, and the Rauataian accent all but confirmed it.

"You ever _seen_ a horse before?" This was a different voice, not as throaty, but still definitely an adult man, a Dyrwoodan. Sagani reached slowly for her pack, not sure yet whether to grab the adra carving or an arrow.

"Whatever it was-- _is_ \-- we'll pick it back up the next time we head down there. With some hirelings, Kana." A woman's voice now, bold and clear. Sagani found the adra carving in her hand when she drew it back to her fore, and she gazed into it.

Cold and dead. Just like always, these past few months.

" _Please_ tell me we're not going back down into that gods-cursed dungeon _solely_ for a half-finished wooden carving of a bear..." Sagani almost didn't hear the Aedyran, she was so disappointed by her poor fortune, but the comically coincidental "carving of a bear" comment made her at least lift her head to regard the group of kith approaching her. Itumaak was bored and anxious, and he fidgeted and whined at Sagani's hip, looking up at her with his big black eyes.

The huntress sighed as she watched the little party notice her. _More friendly travellers, I'm certain. Let's just get this little introduction over with._

"Relax, Itumaak. It's not him."

\---


End file.
